In Love
by Dolphingirl32173
Summary: Neal had suddenly ended his engagement with Yuki without any explanation to anyone. Yuki told Kel she thinks she knows why, but refuses to say. Full Summary inside
1. Prologue

In Love  
DG32173

Sarah: here's my fourth attempt at a Protector of the Small fanfic. Well, one of the other attempts was a one-shot I finished but that's beside the point. I don't own the Protector of the Small quartet nor any of the characters from it. I do own this story, please don't steal. It will start after the end of the fourth book, Lady Knight. You really should read all four books before reading this fanfic, as it will mention scenes or plots from the books. But you don't have to if you don't want to.

_**!!!WARNINGS!!!**_  
Mature content. Spoilers. Enough said.

_**SUMMARY**_  
Neal had suddenly ended his engagement with Yuki without any explanation to anyone. Yuki told Kel she thinks she knows why, but refuses to say. Kel puts the topic to the side as she helps the inhabitants of New Hope set up for Midwinter. But she notices that the closer Midwinter comes, the more edgy Neal gets. When he surprises her on the fourth day of the Midwinter festival, the day of exchanging gifts, she begins to wonder what it would be like to be in love with Neal. But with another war suddenly looming on the horizon, how will they ever get their budding relationship to blossom? _**Neal/Kel**_

_**NOTE  
**_**(Authors note)  
**"Talking"  
'Thinking'  
Scene change  
**POV change**  
_Memory/dreams__  
Scene change in memory_

* * *

Prologue

"He ended the engagement?" Kel gasps, astonished by what her Yamani friend had just told her.

Yuki sighs. "Yes. He didn't say why, but I think I know," she says softly. "And if I'm right, I can't hate him for it. After all, the heart wants what the heart wants."

"What do you mean?" Kel asks in confusion.

Yuki tries to smile, but it comes out a grimace. "I can't tell anyone. Neal would kill me if I do and I'm right; he'll be extremely embarrassed if I do and I'm wrong," she says. "I'll love him always, yes, but I won't force him to marry me if his heart isn't into it. Too many bad marriages happen that way." She decides a change in topic is in order. "So, how is it like, being in charge of this big place and all those commoners?" she asks curiously.

"Exasperating," Kel admits, knowing she won't get anything more out of Yuki on the topic of Neal and their ended relationship. "People are _constantly_ coming to me to settle arguments and the like. Six arguments already today and it's only noon!" Kel studies Yuki. "You're not staying, are you?" she asks.

"No, I'm not. Being near Neal after just being dumped … it won't be a good thing for either of us," Yuki admits with a sigh. "I'll head back south before the roads close with winter snows."

"I suppose that means you'll be leaving today," Kel says, glancing up at the cloudy skies above. "It's supposed to start snowing sometime over the next week. The roads fill up fast this far north."

"Yes, I am. I came to say goodbye," Yuki says. "Perhaps we'll see each other when you're done here."

Kel bows to Yuki in the Yamani fashion, her hands flat on her thighs. Then she hugs the older woman. "Be at peace," she says in Yamani.

"I'll try," Yuki replies. Over the past several months, she has become less Yamani and more Tortallan in that she doesn't hide her emotions from her face all the time. "You try to have fun, you hear?" she says.

"I'll try," Kel agrees, look down at the road below. They are standing on the walk over the sole gate into New Hope. "Be safe."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too." With that, Yuki goes down the stairs to her waiting horse and escort. She climbs into the saddle and sets out the open gate.

Neither woman notices Neal watching them from the door to the infirmary. He knows he had hurt Yuki by calling off the engagement. But he just doesn't love her the way he loves Kel. He knows Yuki has her suspicions that he is in love with Kel and that Yuki will keep quiet about those suspicions.

He sighs as Yuki rides her mare out the gate and down the road. Then his eyes turn back to Kel and he shakes his head. She would probably never see him the way he sees her. To Kel, he's just her best friend. And he won't spoil that friendship by letting her know his feelings run far deeper than that.

He has heard from Tobe that the woman who owns his heart is interested in his cousin, Dom. Neal rolls his eyes. Why does Dom always attract the women? The first woman Neal has known was attracted to him and not his cousin was Yuki, and he had to disappoint her after giving her dreams of marriage then shooting them down. He should never have proposed to the beautiful Yamani. He does love Yuki, but it just isn't the same as the love he has for his best friend.

He heads back into the infirmary as Kel turns away from the road to climb down the stairs. His thoughts turn to Midwinter, which is only a few months away. Men kissed women all the time at Midwinter for luck. Perhaps Kel wouldn't mind … then he grins wryly at himself. He shouldn't even think like that. Even a kiss for Midwinter luck would complicate their friendship, and that was unacceptable. What if she became uncomfortable being around him because of that? Better to stick to simple gifts: they're safer. He had already gotten her a gift for Midwinter, a painting of a cat waving its paw: a Yamani symbol of good luck.

Then a carpenter came in, a nail sticking straight through his thumb and Neal's thoughts return to his job of healing the inhabitants of New Hope when they are injured.

* * *

Sarah: that's it for the prologue. I hope I didn't bore you to death. If you like, please review. See ya'll next chapter.


	2. Strange Dreams

In Love  
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter one of In Love. I hope ya'll enjoy. I don't own the Protector of the Small quartet or the characters from it. I just own this story and what happens within it. Please don't steal.

_**NOTE  
**_**(Authors note)  
**"Talking"  
'Thinking'  
Scene change  
**POV change**  
_Memory/dreams__  
Scene change in memory_

* * *

Chapter 1  
Strange Dreams

_Kel mind is in a flurry of thoughts. She knows she's dreaming, but that doesn't stop her from being any less confused by what is going on. She's in her room the commander's barracks in New Hope. She's sitting on her bed while Neal is seated beside her. Though they often sit and talk on her bed in the real world, something about the atmosphere in this dream is confusing and new to her. They were talking about innocent enough subjects: what's been happening in New Hope; the impending end of the war with Scanra; the recent assassination of Maggur, King of Scanra, who had started the war._

_But now he's leaning towards her, an unknown look in his eyes. She feels her breath picking up pace and her heart starting to beat wildly. She recognizes these responses in her body. She had them when she had kissed Cleon while they were together during her squire years. But for these responses to come from the look in Neal's eyes fascinates and frightens her at the same time._

_Suddenly, his lips are on hers. Her eyes close of their own accord and her lips kiss him back without asking her permission. The electricity running through her veins as he presses her down on the bed is as strange as it is wonderful. Her body tingles with anticipation and excitement as his large hands slip under her nightshirt to massage her breasts, which are free of a breast band as they always are at night. Her hands trail up his back to tangle her fingers in his hair, her body pressing closer to Neal. Suddenly they are both without clothes …_

That's when she snaps to a sitting position in her bed, her nightshirt drenched with sweat. Her sudden movement startles the sparrows and dog that sleep in her bed with her, causing the birds to take to the air briefly and Jump to sit up and stare at her. "A dream," she whispers as she lies back down. "Just a dream." Even though it was a dream, it had felt so _real!_ Why was she suddenly dreaming about Neal like _this?_ She had never had such dreams about anyone before, not even Cleon.

She is slightly afraid to go back to sleep, afraid that the dream would pick up where it had left off. But she is also oddly hoping for it to do just that, to her immense surprise. When she does get back to sleep, though, her dreams are normal, meaningless dreams.

Neal's room

_Neal is sitting on Kel's bed in the night with her, talking about harmless topics, as they do often in real life. Then he finds himself leaning toward her. Her lips part slightly, seeming to invite him in. Then he is kissing her. To his delight, her eyes close and she kisses back. His body hums with a familiar electricity that comes to life whenever his skin touches hers as he presses her backward on the bed until he's propped on top of her._

_His hands trail under her shirt and up to massage her breasts, free of a breast band. Her hands trail up his back to tangle her fingers in his hear, her body pressing closer to his. Suddenly, they are both naked …_

Neal shoots to a sitting position in his bed, panting heavily. As he catches his breath, he lies back on sweat-soaked sheets. It was another dream of Kel. This one had gone slightly farther than any of the others, but he has been having many such dreams of Kel for nearly as long as he's known her.

He sighs. It's not like she'll ever see him that way again. He knows she had had a crush on him when they were pages, but had been too scared to make a move on his love for her for fear that the Stump would find out and send her home even after agreeing to let her stay and train to be a knight.

But when they had become squires, her feelings had moved on to Cleon. Neal grinds his teeth at the thought of the younger, yet senior, knight. Cleon had been the one to steal Kel's first kiss, during Midwinter on top of it! And after he had teased Kel about Cleon kissing her for Midwinter luck. It was like rubbing salt on an open wound when he heard about it. Then Kel and Cleon got together during the Progress. It wasn't as secret as they tried to keep it. The only couple more known and talked about was Lord Raoul, Knight Commander of the King's Own, and Buri, Commander of the Queen's Riders at that time.

Despite hating Cleon with a passion for stealing Kel, Neal wouldn't step in because she was happy. Then the two had to break up after a flood wiped out the harvest on Cleon's home fief. Cleon had to agree to an arranged marriage with an heiress so that his fief could afford food for the commoners during winter.

Neal was secretly pleased, though also hoping things would work out for Cleon. Cleon was still his friend. Neal had been the only one to notice the slight relief on Kel's face when she got back in the Inn from talking to Cleon. It seemed her feelings had moved on from their friend as well. Neal isn't sure who Kel's feelings have moved to, but wishes he was the lucky man. Kel is beautiful, kind, smart, and all-around a good person. She cares about commoners, like he does; other nobles care little about those who are supposed to be under their care, as most of their friends prove.

Neal glances at the window and, seeing a faint light start peaking around the curtains, exhales sharply. Whether he likes it or not, he might as well give up on getting back to sleep now. He pushes himself out of bed and gets dressed. "A healer lying abed when others awaken causes many lives to be taken," his father told him the old healer's proverb constantly. And the entire village of New Hope gets up at dawn, for breakfast, morning chores, and such. So Neal has to get up before they do, which means adopting Kel's habit of rising before dawn. Only the cooks get up before them to start preparing breakfast. And if he's not out of his room before or at the same time as Kel, she barges in without a knock to remind him of his father's words, as Duke Baird had asked her to do so before they went to help build New Hope after rescuing the refugees. That has led to some very embarrassing moments for the both of them. So, to save themselves further embarrassment, Neal has taken to rising at the unholy hour she does.

Kel's room

Kel wakes before dawn as usual and gets out of bed. She had finally convinced Tobe to take a room of his own a few weeks back, so she can once again get dressed without hiding behind a screen. She dresses in her usual outfit of a shirt and breeches and heads into the hall.

She glances towards Neal's door and sees him coming out as well. 'That's good,' she thinks, as she does every morning that he's in the hall when she comes out. Upon receiving orders from his father, Kel has started getting Neal up as soon as she is done dressing. To both their embarrassment, she found out that the older man wears only a loincloth to bed. Sometimes, she'd even catch him in the process of changing. Neither could look at the other for the remainder of the day when that particular event would occur.

Finally, after two months of daily embarrassment, Neal had decided to start waking up when she does to avoid her barging in on him. At first, he had tried talking her into reconsidering, but she refused to budge. Duke Baird's orders overruled Neal's request, as she often reminded him. Then she let on that Lord Wyldon had overheard Duke Baird's request and ordered her to do it every single day. That was the time when Neal had given up on convincing her to stop. So, even though he's even grumpier in the mornings than he used to be, Neal gets up at the same hour she does.

Neal joins her, more moody than usual, and they head for the cafeteria together. Kel, sensing his sour mood as she does on mornings like this, decides against trying to talk to him, as she does almost every morning. She rarely succeeds, anyways, but she still tries. It helps to wake herself up more. Even after nine years of waking up the hour before dawn, she still isn't completely awake when she leaves her room. Some mornings are worse than others, such as this morning. Her thoughts are still wrapped around that strange dream she had about Neal. How odd of it to come so many years after she had gotten over her crush on Neal! But she won't let it bother her. Dreams are just dreams, after all.

After a quick breakfast, Kel heads back to her room to grab her glaive to practice with the children who want to learn the staff while Neal heads for the infirmary to get ready for the day, both still lost in their thoughts. After they had returned to New Hope with the rescued refugees, and the Scanran commoners who had fled, Neal and Kel had all midwives and lesser healers come forward to help Neal in the infirmary, so that he doesn't have to look after the injuries of more than five hundred people alone.

That night, Kel's room

Kel sighs, lying on her bed. Today had gone quite well, actually. The carpenters have finally finished the stables and started on the fourth and last barracks. Nearly half of the summer harvest has come in - the harvest for the beginning of the summer, the end of summer harvest is still two months away - and several reports have arrived by couriers. Lord Raoul and Buri haven't seen any Scanran attacks in over a week. Fort Giantkiller has the same report. Lord Wyldon has only seen two raiding parties in the past month, the last one a week and a half ago.

It seems that with King Maggur's assassination nine days ago, the Scanran's have taken to warring with themselves as they do every time one of their kings is murdered; their kings rarely last two generations, Maggur's reign only lasted just over two and a half years. His death coincided with the two year anniversary of Kel's murder of Blayce the Gallan, a necromancer who used the souls of children to give life to killing machines. Once the necromancer was killed, the Scanran warriors fighting with the suddenly lifeless machines panicked. It was only a matter of time before Maggur was killed. It took far longer than the Tortallans expected, but one of Daine the Wildmage's bird spies finally brought the news they had been waiting for four days ago: King Maggur was assassinated. Daine had affirmed their suspicions that Maggur had kept on the move and stayed hidden as much as possible to avoid his fate for the longest time he could.

Kel sighs, sadly. She had taken a liking to these commoners in New Hope. She was told by a clerk once that she was the only noble these people would work with. But with the war winding towards its inevitable end, she will soon be called home to Corus, leaving her people here to fend for themselves. And that they could certainly fend for themselves. They've proved it many times over the past year and a half. With the refugee camp turned new village on much higher ground than Haven, it's predecessor that was destroyed when it's citizens were either slain or taken, most attackers avoid such a hard target. The only way to reach New Hope easily is the road that lead directly to the only gates into the village. The rest of the ground around it is so steep that even a these mountain men of the north would take a while trying to climb it.

The attackers could easily be shot to death by archers on the walls around the village. Those who tried to flee would be caught between those who were currently patrolling the woods and the staff and sword fighters on horses coming from the village. Ever since New Hope was just a plan on paper, there have been mounted patrols of the area at all hours of the day, the patrols taken in four-hour shifts.

Kel chuckles to herself. She has been keeping herself up every night since word had reached her of King Maggur's, death thinking about the commoners and her friends, Neal and Merric, who were all placed under her leadership.

Thinking of Merric, Kel grins. With so many commoners and ex-convicts willing to take up arms and ride mounted patrols, Merric has taken very few patrols. All who wanted to patrol were assigned a ten-man patrol group, each group with a leader that the members of the group elected. Each group took it's turn every two days; with so many volunteers, it would be impossible to fairly assign patrols to the same group more often than that.

Kel decides that she has spent enough time thinking and begins thinking only of breathing in and out deeply and evenly, a trick she has learned will put her to sleep quickly. It works as it always does: she's asleep within minutes.

_Kel looks into the angry green eyes of Neal's. "You call that mess you had on a bandage?" he demands sharply. "I was picking threads out of your wound. I stopped the bleeding at least. What business did you have getting wounded in the first place?"_

"_You, you should –" she croaked. Her parched throat refused to emit another sound._

"_She's bone dry," snapped Neal. "Any of you battle baits have a water flask?"_

_Someone handed Kel a full water skin. She drank and drank and drank. When she was halfway human again, she told Neal. "You should see the other fellow." She looked over at the bodies of the mage and his protector, both slain by her. "What are Blayce and Stenmun doing out here?"_

_Dream change_

_She was on her bed again, talking to Neal about innocent things again. Suddenly, the look in his eyes and face changed to something strange and foreign, though she feels as if she's seen that look before on someone else's face. Before she could try to remember where she saw that look, he was kissing her again. Again, her eyes closed and her lips kissed back without asking permission._

_When his hands start massaging her breasts, she realizes that they are both without clothing and have been since the start of the dream. He gently pushes her backward on her bed. Soon, he is propped on one elbow on top of her. His other hand trails from her breast over her stomach down to her hip._

_Her fingers are tangled in his hair, keeping his lips on hers. She has never kissed anyone in this fashion before, not even Cleon, the first man she had kissed. His tongue is causing her brain to melt by dancing with her tongue within her mouth. She lets out a moan of pleasure as his hand rubs over her hips and bottom before heading to that private area between her legs …_

Kel snaps to a sitting position, panting heavily, startling the birds and Jump for second night in a row. Her nightshirt is soaked with sweat, also for the second night in a row. That dream was different than the one last night, but it also went farther than the one last night had gone. Even now, her body is humming with the electricity that had been running through it in her dream. She's had the first dream before, but in longer versions. She never had the dream where it only surrounded what had gone on between her and Neal the day she and her friends had rescued the refugees.

But that still brings up the same question: why is she dreaming of Neal so much lately? And why is she dreaming of him in such an improper manner? She falls back in her bed with a moan of disgust at herself. This can't be good for her sense of stability. Is she falling in love with Neal again? Then a tiny part of her reminds her that she has always fancied Neal, so she may not be falling _back_ in love, simply re-realizing it.

She huffs. Either way, if it's true, she's gonna be hard-pressed to keep it quiet. Merric had told her that most of her year mates, besides Neal and Garvey, had seen that she had a crush on the older youth throughout their page years. It seems that secrets are seen more often than they are hidden. She turns on her side and concentrates completely on the task of breathing in and out slowly and deeply. She soon falls back asleep. Unfortunately for Kel, her dreams for the remainder of the night, and all the nights following, center around Neal and herself.

* * *

Sarah: well, there's chapter one. Weird dreams, right? Well, they're leading up to what will happen at Midwinter in this fanfic and, hopefully, Christmas-time in the real world. But that is still several chapters away, and I don't wanna give too much of a hint as to what's going to go down in that chapter. Well, please review.


	3. So Embarrassing

In Love  
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter 2 of In Love. I hope you enjoy. The wondrous realm of Tortall and the world and characters surrounding it are owned by the amazingly talented Tamora Pierce. I do own Dulgar, the son of Maggur that I had made up for the continuation of the war with Scanra. In this chapter, I am going to embarrass Neal and Kel shamelessly. This chapter takes place about five months after the last chapter. Also, sorry about the delay in updating. I've had up to chapter four done for a while now but I've been busy with my PJO stories. Sorry!

_**NOTE  
**_**(Authors note)  
**"Talking"  
'Thinking'  
Scene change  
**POV change**  
_Memory/dreams__  
Scene change in memory_

* * *

Chapter 2  
So Embarrassing

Neal sighs. Kel has again brought the topic back to Yuki and him ending his engagement with the Yamani. He can't tell her without embarrassing himself and most likely causing her to become uncomfortable being around him alone. They are sitting on her bed, talking as they do every night.

It is too much like how his dreams have been starting for the past several months for his taste, but if he suddenly stopped hanging out in her room every night, she would ask why. He wouldn't tell her and she would very likely assume absolutely the worst thing. Saying "I'm too tired lately" will only work for so long, as will other excuses. He can't even make up an excuse about having a surgery in the morning because the number of patients to see him for anything more than minor wounds has dwindled sharply since the war's end last month.

Wounds acquired by the carpenters have dwindled with the onset of winter. It is _very_ hard to do outdoor woodwork in deep snow and frequent snowstorms, so most of the carpentry has been moved inside the largest barn, which was built for such tasks. The loggers, who work year-round except for in the worst weather, have been cutting trees their entire lives and rarely injure themselves. Once the last of the autumn harvest was collected and stored, the fields' workers have been transferred to other chores. Weapons practice has moved indoors to the second largest barn, and the commoners and ex-convicts are becoming so skilled at it that they only obtain bruises, cuts, and the occasional broken finger, wounds that take only a breath to heal, and the other healers handle those, saving him for the rare large tasks that they can't do.

In other words, he has very few healings to perform these days. He spends his time practicing with his weapons; he's grown "a little rusty", as Kel oh-so-kindly puts it, with weapons since he became the primary healer for the large group of refugees back when they were first assigned to Haven. He does have an apprentice, even though Neal himself is only twenty-six, who he is training to take his place when he, Kel, and Merric are called back to Corus in the spring. The citizens have voted a headman _and_ headwoman for when Kel must leave, so only problems that cannot be settled by the council in each of the barracks or by the headman and headwoman reach Kel, and those problems are few and far between. Merric has chosen two of the best and smartest guards, one commoner and one ex-convict, to become the village's heads of security after he has left, and the other guards and patrollers have agreed with his choices.

So, in plain words, all three knights have a lot of free time on their hands with too little to do to fill it, thus causing the "too tired" excuse to be a _very_ temporary reason for Neal to avoid alone time with Kel at night. Neal's thoughts turn to the quickly approaching Midwinter. He suppresses a grin as memories of last Midwinter come to mind. On the fourth day of last Midwinter, all three of the knights had received a gift from _every_ citizen in New Hope. Where the citizens found the time to get or make all those gifts, including the ones for the other inhabitants on their gift-list, not one of the knights has been able to figure out. Even up to Midwinter, when Kel had decided a village-wide mandatory vacation for the week, everyone had kept busy. The knights had managed at least a card to every villager and a small gift for each other and the villagers they were closest to, but the gifts from the villagers were all very well made, mostly carved wooden figurines or something else that was rather time-consuming to make as well as the gifts had been.

Neal had hid just one gift from his friends: a perfectly carved figurine of Kel on a rearing Peachblossom from Tobe last Midwinter that had been painted to look like a miniature of Lady Knight and her horse. It could have been real save for size. When the boy had taken up wood-carving and painting and how he kept it secret until Midwinter, Neal will never know. But by the amazing likeness to the real knight and horse, the boy either had help or had taken up the hobby quite some time before Midwinter. Neal suspects it was a combination of both. Tobe's note that came with the figurine said that though the lady knight and all the other people in the village seemed to be oblivious, Tobe could clearly see that Neal was in love with Kel and so could Magewhisper. The gift had been in a wrapped box placed just inside the door that leads from the outer room in Neal's suite to the hallway. When Neal had confronted Tobe in private, the boy had grinned and said he wasn't going to tell anyone and neither would Magewhisper but that the knight should tell Kel soon. Kel wasn't dumb and would eventually figure it out.

Neal gives an inner sigh of relief; it is lucky for him that he can think about one thing _and_ keep up with a conversation on a completely different topic at the same time, or he'd be screwed. He grins cheekily at Kel. "Are you _really_ asking me about ideas for Midwinter gifts, O-Queen-of-Great-Gifts?" he teases the younger knight. Kel blushes and punches him in the shoulder, hard. He yelps, and rubs his arm. "You are really going to end up giving me a broken bone one day," he complains, pulling up his shirt sleeve to examine the already forming bruise. He touches a finger sparkling with his magic to the bruise and banishes it.

"Then quit teasing and answer the question; I've run out of ideas for gifts to Tobe, and I have no idea what he would want. He never talks about anything he might want, only asking what _I_ would want," she says, sighing.

Unknown to Neal, Kel has also had a small part of her brain saying every day that this time spent alone with Neal in her room in the evening is far too much like the dreams she has been having these last five months. Thankfully, the evenings don't get any further into the increasingly improper dreams than sitting on her bed with Neal and talking about harmless topics.

Neal thinks seriously about what a twelve-year-old boy like Tobe would want for Midwinter. Neal can't go from his own experience; at twelve, he was already at the royal university, learning to become a healer before he decided to quit and become a knight-in-training at fifteen. Before that, he had only wanted books that would help with his studies. Thankfully, Lady Alanna, his knight-mistress as a squire, was a healer as well as a knight and taught him everything she knew about healing.

But his other friends had only wanted simple things from Kel when they were twelve, knowing that Kel couldn't get anything fancy. And she had always given them something they had wanted … except a kiss. She hadn't even thought about kissing anyone that he knows of until Cleon had kissed her when she was fifteen.

Neal still wishes he had followed up with his wild fantasy of kissing her that time when they were about to head to their second year examinations as pages. Their faces had come extremely close when she had finger-combed his hair to make it lay flat as her unofficial role of inspector before the yearly page examinations. When she had finished, their faces had been only a few inches a part. If he had just moved his face forward a few inches, his lips would have met hers so they could exchange their own first kiss to anyone. Her lips had parted slightly, almost invitingly. Her pupils had dilated slightly. Another few moments and he _would_ have kissed her, thus making their status as best friends forever awkward. So he had put on his most business-like face and straightened her collar needlessly in a business-like manner to avoid such a fate. Now that he knows she had had a crush on him then, he truly regrets not following through with the kiss when he had a chance.

Suppressing a wince, Neal turns his thoughts back to ideas for a Midwinter gift Kel could give Tobe. Tobe doesn't like money all that much, unlike most commoners, even those commoners that were the servants of nobles. So the traditional silver noble isn't an option, as Kel had already known since before last Midwinter. Tobe is fascinated by Kel's Yamani lucky porcelain cats, but she had given him one from her much reduced collection last Midwinter.

When she had first gone to the palace to become a knight-in-training, she had brought twelve such porcelain cats with her, all in different colors and sizes. Now she is down to about five or six; so many of their close friends, including Tobe, had all received one of them. The few remaining decorate a corner of her dresser, the mantle over the fireplace in her room already overflowing with other figurines of waving cats, made with a wide variety of material, she had received as gifts for her two birthdays and one Midwinter spent here. She said she had a few more that come from Yaman in her room in her parents' home in Barony Mindelan; her parents had locked her room off so that her young nieces and nephews couldn't go in and damage the items Kel had brought back from her stay in Yaman. Only one maid was allowed to go in while Kel was not there so that her things wouldn't get ruined by dust and other such things that gather when something lies unused for an extended amount of time.

Neal thinks of other things that might interest or amuse Tobe. Kel had already outfitted him with a dagger that he kept on his person at all times. It wasn't a very expensive dagger, as she has little money except for what the crown gives her and the purse of gold - among other things - she had earned from rescuing the refugees from Scanra, but it is well made. Then he remembers something he overheard Tobe talking to his friends among the commoner children about what he wished he could have, but he knows that his mistress could never afford it: a proper staff that would suit his almost continuous growth spurt. The boy had been a runt, not even four-foot-eight, for his age of ten years because of malnutrition and overall negligence when Kel had first hired him on. But under Kel's care, the boy is now nearly five-foot-four at twelve and is still growing quickly, like Kel had during her page and squire years.

Neal knows Kel can't afford such a weapon on her own. But, if he explains it the right way, he could help buy one for Tobe and they could present it to the boy as a joint Midwinter gift from both of them.

"I think I know of one thing he would love," he tells Kel. Kel cocks her head slightly, a sign to continue. "I overheard him talking about it the other day. And I'm sure, if we both chip in, we could give it to him as a Midwinter gift from both of us."

"What is it?" Kel asks suspiciously. Neal rolls his eyes. Every time someone talks about jointly buying something with her, Kel gets extremely suspicious about how much that something would cost and becomes immediately sure that it would be a waste of money, even without knowing what the item is.

"Tobe was talking about how it would be great if he could have a staff that would suit his growth spurt over time," Neal says. He sees the worry in Kel's eyes and knows that she is fretting over how she could give the boy who never asks for anything the one thing he wants most. "Don't worry, I said I'll help. It will be a gift from both of us. We just have to find the right one next time we go to see the Stump. He's got some great staff-makers over there. If we could get one of them to make a good one for Tobe, he'll be the happiest boy in the realm when he gets it during Midwinter. Besides, I haven't found a good gift for him yet"

Kel sighs. She knows she can't win an argument against Neal, and decides not to even start one over this. If it means giving Tobe something he would never ask for in front of her or anyone who would tell her, she should just accept Neal's help and deal with it. She gets off her bed to go to the dresser where she keeps her clothes and hides her belt purse.

She digs through her clothes and pulls out her belt purse. She opens it and pours the coins in it onto the top of the dresser so she can count how much she has to spare for such an expensive gift. Deciding she has enough to pay half the price for just the right staff, she turns to Neal. "Fine," she says, sighing again. "But it has to be just right. If I deem it to be anything less, I won't buy it," she warns him.

"Naturally," he agrees.

Noon the next day

Kel was walking down the stairs leading to the top of the wall over the gate when someone hails her from below. She looks around and sees Neal coming towards the stairs she is climbing down.

When they first started building New Hope, it was an unanimous decision among everyone who will be living there for any amount of time that there be two layers of walls, the outer being the same height as Haven's and the inner being twice that height; this is to keep any raiders who do somehow make it to the walls, most likely in the middle of the night, from getting into New Hope as easily as those who had captured the refugees had. Even with both walls manned and patrols taken every second of the day, it is somewhat easier for anyone, no matter their intent, to come up to the walls undetected at night.

Kel waves to her friend and he waves back. Something about the serious look on his face tells her he hasn't come for a social visit, as he often does when her shift as wall guard has ended and he has nothing to do. Neal has sought her out for something important.

Spending two and a half years taking shifts as a wall guard has cured Kel of even her dislike of heights. She does know that heights can be dangerous, even deadly, if not treated with proper respect, but she no longer avoids looking straight down from the top of a high wall or towards the outside of an open staircase she is climbing.

Wondering what would make Neal look so serious, Kel forgets to be careful when she reaches four loose stairs in a row halfway between the top and bottom. The stairs can hold even Lord Raoul in full armor, but only if he is extremely careful about his footing. Even the smallest of children must mind where they step on that section of stairs or they could fall backwards or even to the side.

The carpenters have promised to fix those steps, among other loose places on the walls or stairs surrounding the village, as soon as they are done building the fifth, unexpected barracks sometime later this week. An unexpected swarm of Scanran fugitives and Tortallan refuges had come to the village. Thankfully, the grounds of New Hope within the walls is nearly three times as much land as Haven had. No one who lives on the border between Scanra and Tortall will risk their lives living outside of the walls of a village or town at _any_ time of the year. The tension between the two realms and the frequent Scanran raids are much too dangerous for that kind of lifestyle.

The Scanran fugitives told Kel, Neal, and Merric that they had heard of how well Tortall had beaten the Scanran army and navy and of how Kel had killed the creator of the killing machines. They had said that with the ill wind in the air, they would rather live as Tortallans than Scanrans.

As soon as Kel places her foot on the first loose stair, she realizes that she had stepped in absolutely the worst spot in absolutely the worst way. The board creaks and shifts slightly, causing her to tumble down the remaining stairs. She doesn't see Neal's shocked face or that he breaks into a run when she starts her tumble to try and catch her before she hits the unforgiving ground.

Even the most well balanced of New Hope's inhabitants has taken at least one tumble down the stairs from placing their foot in the wrong spot on a loose step. The children have been forbidden to climb to the top of the walls until all loose stairs are made secure. This is Kel's second tumble. Both times, the entire town would see her tumble and watch with bated breath as she tumbles top over bottom down the stairs. The first time, two months ago, she had broken her left arm and dislocated her left shoulder because no one was able to get to her before she impacted with a loud crack on the hard packed dirt, the crack being her arm breaking. During the entire time Neal was healing her arm and relocating her shoulder, he had been telling her at top volume how she should be far more careful because one day she was going to get herself _seriously_ injured and he might not be around to heal her.

It is good for Kel that the stairs are wide and have one side pressed snug against the wall. Otherwise, she would have tumbled off the stairs and fallen a couple dozen feet to the ground below. Suddenly, about halfway through her fall down the staircase, her body bounces off the wall the wrong way and she's thrown into the open air on the opposite side of the steps, nearly fifteen feet above the ground. Neal dives under her as she falls and she lands on him. But everyone, even Neal and Kel, are frozen in shock about how she had landed on the older knight. She is sprawled on top of him and their lips had crashed together. They stare into each other's wide eyes in surprise for several minutes, unable to separate from each other even to stop the unexpected kiss, feeling a strange electricity run through their bodies that is very much like the electricity that runs through them every night in their dreams of each other.

Then they suddenly separate as the spectators on the ground rush forward to see if they are both alright. Neal quickly checks Kel over for injuries from her tumble and fall. Surprisingly, all she has is a nice collection of bruises and scrapes. He heals those quickly, avoiding Kel's gaze as she avoids his. They reassure those around them that they are fine. It takes some time to convince the others that they are well, but finally everyone heads back to the work they had been doing prior to witnessing Kel's fall.

But for the next several weeks, after the worry and shock wears off, _everyone_ in New Hope will tease Neal and Kel endlessly about the 'kiss', of that the two knights are sure. It is going to be extremely awkward and embarrassing for them to be seen even conversing with each other for quite some time, even more awkward when they're alone together. But neither knight will ever forget the kiss or the electricity that had hummed in their veins during the entire time. Nor will they _ever_ forget how their bodies and minds had wanted to go further; they will never talk about the want for more or the electricity in their veins to anyone, not even each other. It would make an awkward situation all the worse, of that they are positive.

That evening

Despite the accidental kiss that afternoon, Kel and Neal still meet in her room that evening to talk about innocent subjects. Both avoid talking about the kiss, though that is all they can think about. "Do you think it's true?" Kel asks suddenly after several minutes spent in silent companionship.

"Hm? Think what is true?" Neal asks, pulled out of his thoughts of the afternoon's events.

"That Maggur's son has claimed the Scanran throne and plans to continue the war? I know Daine trusts her spies, but animals can be mistaken," she explains, worried about the letter they had received by courier today. Neal had been coming to tell her about the message before she fell from the stairs and the embarrassing scene afterwards.

"From what I understand, Dulgar is far more clever, thus more dangerous, than Maggur. I'm sure he'll have found some way to take the throne. I'd even bet he had been the one to cause the assassination of Maggur," Neal replies after several moments in silent contemplation. "If he does continue the war, he still has many warriors he can send against us. If he's as clever as I understand, he will have recruited every Scanran male over the age of fourteen but under fifty and is giving them the proper training an army would receive while winter keeps everyone within their own borders. If that is so, he will have a much larger and better trained army than Maggur had by spring thaw."

Kel sighs. "That could keep us in war for _years_, if he recruits all boys once they reach fourteen and trains them," she says softly, shaking her head. "I wish there was a way we could just establish trade with Scanra. I doubt King Jonathon or the Scanrans would listen to _that_ idea, though. King Jonathon's father _might_ have listened; he _was_ known as The Peacemaker during his reign. But I doubt even The Peacemaker could convince the Scanran tribes to establish trade instead of raiding us."

"I doubt anyone has ever _tried_ establishing trade with Scanra," Neal replies. "Most Tortallans think of Scanrans as barbarians, what with the different tribes constantly warring with each other before Maggur united them against us. The Scanrans certainly wouldn't think to try building trade routes with Tortall if they can barely tolerate each other. It would be nice if such a venture were to be attempted and succeed, though."

Kel makes the mistake of meeting Neal's eyes while trying to smile. Something smoldering within those emerald depths sends the electricity from this afternoon running through her veins again. Her breath hitches slightly. Then the smoldering is gone, leaving Kel with a sense that she had glimpsed something important and had it disappear before she could recognize what it was

"I suppose it would be nice," she says breathily, not sure if she is agreeing with his words or something else entirely. She shoves off the odd feeling and turns her attention _back_ to the conversation. She can think about the feeling and what had just passed later, when he has returned to his room for the night.

Neal also struggles to return his attention to the conversation. He had been thinking how it would be nice to just kiss her then and there when she had met his eyes with her hazel gaze. He shoved the thought away before it could overpower his will. Then she had spoken so breathily, causing him to wonder if she was agreeing to what he had said about a venture to establish trade with Scanra or with his thoughts. But he shoved the idea away, knowing she couldn't _possibly_ hear his thoughts.

But their eyes refuse to leave the others, her dreamer's hazel gaze locked with his emerald one, causing them both to struggle that much harder to put their attention back where it should have stayed from the beginning. Then they hear the watch call the midnight hour and know that, if they plan to get up at their usual time before dawn, they should separate for their own beds. Neal sighs and breaks away from her eyes first, allowing her to recover her senses. "Goodnight, Kel," he says, standing.

"Goodnight, Neal," she replies, watching him leave her rooms for his own, closing her bedroom door on his way out.

Once she hears him close the door to the outer room, she gets up and blows out the lanterns around her bedchambers before stripping off her clothes and putting on a nightshirt in the dark; clouds have covered the skies endlessly for nearly two weeks now, blocking out moon- and starlight at night and allowing only a little sunlight through during the day. The snow they promise has yet to fall, but when it does come, the inhabitants of New Hope are positive that it will be in the form of a blizzard.

* * *

Sarah: that's it for this chapter. Chapter 3 will come soon. I hope you enjoyed this enough to leave a review. See you in chapter 3, _Memories._


	4. Memories

In Love  
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter 3. As I said at the end of last chapter, this chapter's title is _Memories._ It will be Neal remembering his page years with Kel through dreams. I just own my crazy imagination, this story, and what happens in this story. Everything else belongs to the fantastic Tamora Pierce… I just noticed I've been using a lot of fancy words before naming my current favorite authoress. I never did that with anyone else whose creations I write fanfics about … must show how much I really love her books. Anyways! Enjoy! Oh, and this chapter will be entirely from Neal's point of view, just so you aren't confused.

_**!CHAPTER WARNING!**_  
SPOILERS! This chapter is full of spoilers from _First Test_. You don't really have to read this chapter unless you want to see parts of the book from Neal's view. Or, at least the view I think Neal would have and the view I will be using throughout this story.

_**NOTE  
**_**(Authors note)  
**"Talking"  
'Thinking'  
Scene change  
**POV change**  
_Memory/dream  
__FLASH_ – scene change in dream_  
Scene change in memory_

* * *

Chapter 3  
Memories Part 1: Neal

Over the next month, my dreams still center around Kel and myself. But instead of the dreams about being in her bedroom in New Hope, these dreams are about the time I have spent with Kel from the first day we met. At least I am given a month long reprieve from those sexual dreams that always pop into my head at the most inopportune moments. Instead, I dream of memories I have made with Kel over our years as pages, squires, and even our years together as knights.

_I join the boys walking down the hall behind the Stump to the rooms the five other first-years are staying, but I stay at the back of the group. I know I'm a first-year and I'm not supposed to be with this group, but I have lived at court almost all of my fifteen years and I know the palace and the ways better than any of the other pages, even the fourth-years._

_I watch as, one-by-one, the boys who make up four of the five other first-years are chosen by sponsors. My gaze rests on the only female who will join twenty-odd males in training to become a knight. She has a dreamer's hazel eyes and mouse brown hair cropped short to her earlobes. Her right eye has a colorful bruise around it._

_As Joren volunteers to be her sponsor, I roll my eyes. The boy won't show the girl around, as he claims, only force her into leaving within a week. Lord Wyldon of Cavall, who I call the Stump for his stiffness about keeping traditions alive and forgoing change as much as possible, looks at Joren. "I had hoped for another sponsor," he comments stiffly. "You should employ your spare hours in the improvement of your classwork and your riding skills."_

_Someone starts whispering about how Joren hates females who want to be warriors, but another boy shushes him with a hiss. The girl, Keladry of Mindelan, stares at the flagstones under her feet. "I believe I can perfect my studies and sponsor the girl," Joren says respectfully. "And since I am the only volunteer –"_

_I decide to open my mouth and stick my foot in it, again. "I suppose I'm being rash and peculiar, _again,"_ I remark in my usual drawl, "but if it means helping my friend Joren improve his studies, well, I'll just have to sacrifice myself. There's nothing I won't do to further the cause of book learning among my peers."_

_Everyone turns to look at me. Seeing Keladry clearly, I briefly wonder if there has ever been another woman so beautiful. I quickly throw away the thought. The Stump rubs the arm he keeps tucked in a sling absently. "You volunteer, Nealan of Queenscove?"_

_I bow jerkily. "That I do, your worship, sir," I say, the barest hint of a taunt in my voice._

"_A sponsor should be a page in his second year at least," the Stump informs me. "And you will mind your tongue."_

"_I know I only joined this little band in April, your lordship," I remark cheerily, "but I have lived at court almost all of my fifteen years. I know the palace and its ways. And unlike Joren, I need not worry about my academics."_

_I notice Keladry staring at me, obviously wondering if I have always been mad or if these few months under the Stump did this to me. 'I assure you, my dear, I haven't learned these manners recently,' I tell her silently._

_The Stump's eyebrows snap together. "You have been told to mind your manners, Page Nealan. I will have an apology for your insolence."_

_I bow deeply. "An apology for general insolence, your lordship, or some particular offense?"_

"_One week scrubbing pots," the Stump orders. "Be silent."_

_I throw out an arm like a player making a dramatic statement. "How can I be silent and yet apologize?" I ask innocently._

"Two_ weeks." Everyone else forgets Keladry as the Stump concentrates on me. "The first duty for anyone in service to the crown is obedience."_

"_And I am a terrible obeyer," I retort. "All these inconvenient arguments spring to my mind and I just have to make them."_

"_Three," he says tightly._

"_Neal, shut it!" someone whispers._

_Keladry squeaks something, but I would not have heard it even if I had been standing beside her. She clears her throat and tries again. "I can learn it on my own."_

_Everyone turns to stare at her, myself included. This is different; no page has ever offered to learn the palace on their own. But, then, no page has ever had sponsors fight over them or one of the sponsors acting rudely toward the training master in front of them._

_The Stump merely glances at her. "What did you say?"_

"_I'll find my way on my own," she repeats. "Nobody has to show me. I'll probably learn better, poking around."_

_That is highly unlikely. This palace is a labyrinth to anyone who comes to it for the first time. She could end up in the catacombs or somewhere equally unpleasant. I stare at her with my brows raised._

"_When I require your opinion," the Stump begins, dark eyes snapping._

"_It's no trouble," I interrupt. Can't have the new girl get in trouble on her first day, even if it means apologizing to the Stump. "None at all, Demoiselle Keladry. My lord, I apologize for my wicked tongue and dreadful manners. I shall do my best not to encourage her to follow my example._

_The Stump starts to speak, but appears to think better of whatever he meant to say. Perhaps my first, and hopefully only, apology in my life surprised him. He waits a moment, then says, "You are her sponsor, then. Now. Enough time has been wasted on foolishness. Supper."_

_He walks down the hall, the other pages following like ducklings in their mother's wake. Pathetic. I stare at her, allowing my eyes to take her in. Up close, her face seems almost emotionless, but her eyes clearly hold curiosity and confusion. "Believe me, you wouldn't have liked Joren as a sponsor," I inform her. "He'd drive you out in a week. With me at least you might last a while, even if I am at the bottom of Lord Wyldon's list. Come on."_

_I stride off. Halfway down the hall, I realize she's not following. Turning to see her still in front of her room, I let out a gusty sigh and beckon. She doesn't budge. Finally, I stomp back to her. "What part of 'com on' was unclear, page?" I ask, letting my temper get the better of me._

"_Why do you care if I last a week or longer?" she demands. "Queenscove is a ducal house. Mindelan's just a barony, and a new one at that. Nobody cares about Mindelan. We aren't related, and our fathers aren't friends. So who am I to you?"_

_I openly stare at her. "Direct little thing, aren't you?"_

_She crosses her arms over her chest and waits. I don't have much patience and anyone can see that, even if they don't know me. After only a few moments, I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. "Look – you heard me say I've lived at court almost all my life, right?" I ask. She nods. "Well, think about that. I've lived at court and my father's the chief of the realm's healers. I've spent time with the queen and quite a few of the Queen's Riders and the King's Champion. I've watched Lady Alanna fight for the crown. I saw her majesty and some of her ladies fight in the Immortals War. I know women can be warriors. If that's the life you want, then you ought to have the same chance to get it as anyone else who's here." I stop, realizing that I'm making a speech like I would in a debate at the university. I shake my head as a rueful smile makes its way onto my lips. "I keep forgetting I'm not in a university debate. Sorry about the speech. Can we go eat now?"_

_She nods again. This time, she follows as I go down the hall. When we pass an intersection of halls, I point out a flight of stairs leading down. "Note that stairwell. Don't let anyone tell you it's a shortcut to the mess or the classrooms. It heads straight down and ends on the lower levels, underground."_

"_Yessir."_

"_Don't call me sir."_

"_Yessir."_

_I halt, looking at her through narrowed eyes. "Was that meant to be funny?"_

"_Nossir," she replies. I'm surprised to see her breathing heavily, then remember that I walk briskly when I talk._

_I throw up my hands at her response and resume heading to the mess hall. Finally, we enter the large room filled with noise. Sometimes, like at the beginning of a new year of studying to be a knight, it seems like every boy in the world is here, yelling and jostling around the long rows of tables and benches. I notice Keladry halt in surprise, but I beckon her to follow me to where the trays, plates, napkins, and cutlery are laid out, then grab different plates and bowls of food, noticing the girl copying me. Pitchers of juice, bowls of fruit, honey pots, and platters of cheese are already on the tables._

_We pause, looking for a place to sit. The racket of the room fades as eyes turn to stare at Keladry. I am definitely going to have to ask her if she has a nickname she prefers. Her full name is such a mouthful. Within seconds of the din dying, the room is flooded with whispers. "Look." "The Girl." "It's her." One boy says clearly, "Who cares? She won't last."_

_I give no sign of hearing them while Keladry bites her lip and stares at her tray. I spot a pair of seats at the end of one table and lead Keladry there. As we sit down across from each other, the boys closest to us move. Two seats are beside me and three next to Kel are left empty._

"_This is nice," I remark cheerfully, putting my food on the table before me and shoving the tray to the gap between me and the next boy. "Usually it's impossible to get a bit of elbow room here."_

_Someone raps on a table. The Stump is standing alone at the lectern on the dais in front of the room. Everyone stands as he raises his hands. "To Mithros, god of warriors and of truth, and to the Great Mother Goddess, we give thanks for their bounty."_

_I roll my eyes but respond with the others. "We give thanks and praise."_

"_We ask the guidance of Mithros in these uncertain times, when change threatens all that is time-honored and true. May the god's light show us a path back to the virtues of our fathers and an end to uncertain times. We ask this in of Mithros, god of the sun."_

_I refuse to join the others in this part. "So mote it be."_

_He lowers his hands and everyone drops into their seats, Kel, frowning, is less quick than the rest; I'm only a split second ahead of her. "Don't let his prayers bother you," I tell her, using my belt-knife to cut my meat. "My father says he's done nothing but whine about change in Tortall since the king and queen were married. Eat. It's getting cold." 'Though those who refuse to change are doomed to go extinct,' I say to myself. It is a well-known proverb, but the conservatives of Tortall refuse to listen to it._

_Keladry and I eat in silence for a minute. Then she asks, "Nealan?"_

_I put my fork down. "It's Neal. My least favorite aunt calls me Nealan."_

"_How did his lordship get those scars?" she asks. "And why is his arm in a sling?"_

_I raise my brows, surprised. "Didn't you know?" She stays quiet. I glance at her, shake my head, and continue. "In the war, a party of centaurs and hurrocks – "_

"_Hur – what?" she asks, interrupting._

"_Hurrocks. Winged horses, claws, fangs, very nasty. They attacked the royal nursery. The Stump –"_

"_The what?" she asks, interrupting again._

_I sigh, a wicked gleam in my eyes. "I call him the Stump because he's so stiff." I see agreement, then resentment, and finally resignation flash through her eyes, though her face remains blank. "Anyway, Lord Wyldon fought off the hurrocks and centaurs all by himself. He saved Prince Liam, Prince Jasson, and Princess Lianne. In the fight, the hurrocks raked him. My father managed to save the arm, but Wyldon's going to have pain from it all his life."_

"_He's a hero, then," she breathes, looking at the training master with respect._

"_Oh, he's as brave as brave can be," I reassure her. "That doesn't mean he isn't a stump." I fall silent as we concentrate on our suppers. "You aren't what was expected," I say abruptly._

"_How so?" she asks, cutting up her meat._

"_Oh, well, you're big for a girl. I have a ten-year-old sister who's a hand-width shorter. And you seem rather quiet. I guess I thought the girl who would follow Lady Alanna's footsteps would be more like her."_

_She shrugs. "Will I get to meet the Lioness?"_

_I run my fork around the edge of my plate, not meeting her eyes. "She isn't often at court. Either she's in the field, dealing with lawbreakers or immortals, or she's home with her family."_

_The bell chimes, marking the end of supper. It also saves me from explaining the main reason the Lioness is avoiding court: the Stump had convinced the king to order Lady Alanna to stay away from Keladry. The Stump said it would seem like favoritism, since she has never bothered with the pages before. And many people still claim Alanna was cheated into her shield by her friends, her magic, and the fact that she was, and is, touched by the Goddess. Those people would claim that Alanna would magic Keladry into her shield somehow if the Lioness spent any amount of time near her._

"_Come on. Let's get rid of this stuff, and I'll start showing you around," I say, grabbing my tray._

_Salma, the woman in charge of the servants who work in the page and squire wings, finds us as we leave the mess hall. She takes Keladry aside and gives her two keys. "I'm the only one with copies of these," she tells the girl quietly. "Even the cleaning staff will need me to let them in. Both keys are special. To open your door, put the brass one in the lock, turn it left, and whisper your name. When you leave, turn the key left again. The iron key is for the bottom set of shutters.. It works the same as the door key. Lock the shutters every time you leave, or the boys will break in that way. Leave the small upper shutters open for ventilation. Only a monkey could climb through those. Don't worry if any of the boys can pick locks. Anyone who tries will be sprayed in skunk-stink. That should make them reconsider."_

_Keladry smiles and thanks Salma. I walk over. "If they can't wreck your room, they'll find other things to do," I murmur. She raises her eyebrows and I explain. "I learned to read lips. The masters at the university were always whispering about something."_

_She tucks the keys into her belt-purse. "I'll deal with the other things as they come," she says firmly. "Now, where to?"_

"_I bet you'd enjoy the portrait gallery. If you're showing visitors around, it's one of the places they like to go."_

_After leading her through an assortment of salons, libraries, and official chambers, I show her the gallery. I tell her stories about every person whose portrait is displayed here. She seems fascinated by my knowledge of Tortall's monarchs and their families, though it is hard to tell. I'm often told that I sound like I had known them all personally, even the most ancient. She stares longest at the faces of our current monarchs. It's easy to see why the queen is called the most beautiful woman in Tortall…or so I believed until I met Kel, the nickname she had given me as we walked to the portrait gallery. But even in a painting, there is something more to the queen than her looks. There's humor in the back of her level hazel eyes and determination in her strong nose and perfectly carved mouth._

"_She's splendid," Keladry breathes._

"_She is, but don't say that around the Stump," I advise. "He thinks she's ruined the country, with her K'miri notion that women can fight and her opening schools so everyone can learn their letters. Anything new gives my lord of Cavall a nosebleed."_

"_Still determined to go to war with the training master, Nealan?" a soft, whispery voice inquires from behind us._

_Kel whirls around, startled. She backs up several paces and looks the tall, lizard-creature with pearl-grey pebbled skin from foot to face. When she meets the basilisk's large, slit-pupiled grey eyes, her jaw drops._

"_You're staring, Mindelan," I say dryly._

"_As am I," the basilisk remarks. "Will you introduce us?"_

"_Tkaa, this is Keladry of Mindelan," I say. "Kel, Tkaa is a basilisk. He's also one of our instructors in the ways of the immortals."_

_Kel seems to be surprised into speechlessness. "We basilisks are travelers and gossips," Tkaa remarks. "I earn my keep here by educating those who desire a more precise knowledge of those immortals who have chosen to settle in the human realms."_

"_Yes, sir," Kel says, breathless. She starts to curtsy, then tries to bow at the same time. I brace her before she can topple over. Once she regains her balance, a red-faced Kel bows properly._

"_I am pleased to meet you, Keladry of Mindelan," Tkaa tells her as if he didn't notice her clumsiness. "I shall see you both the day after tomorrow." With a nod to each of us, he leaves the gallery, his long tail daintily raised._

_I sigh. "We'd better get back to our rooms. Tomorrow's a busy day."_

_FLASH_

_When Kel finds me in the mess hall on her first morning here, she whishes me a good morning. I look at her through bleary eyes. "There's nothing good about it," I mumbled. I hate mornings. Kel shakes her head and eats in silence._

_The day seems to fly by. It starts underground, where palace stores are kept, in the tailors' section. The head tailor takes Kel's measurements, then has assistant dumps a load of garments in her arms while I take the cloaks and coats she is given for cold weather._

_Once she has stored her things, I take her on another tour. We spend the morning inside, visiting the classrooms, libraries, indoor practice courts, and supply rooms. After lunch, I take her to the outdoor practice courts and stables, the gardens where we might wait on guests, and last of all, the royal menagerie._

_That night, my dreams star Kel's amazed face as she stares in awe at the large variety of animals and their magical enclosures in the menagerie. That was the first night I dreamt of her. I dreamed of her every night after for the rest of my life._

_FLASH_

_After breakfast, all the pages flock to the first practice yard of the morning. The two Shang warriors who have taken up a semi-permanent residence in the palace to teach the pages hand-to-hand combat are already there._

_Eda Bella, the Shang Wildcat, sits on the fence, watching us with pale, intelligent eyes. Her gray curls are cropped short, framing a face that is somehow dainty yet weathered._

_Hakuin Seastone, the Shang Horse, stands in the center of the yard, his hands braced on his hip. He's a tall, golden-skinned Yamani with plump lips and a small nose. His black eyes are lively, even at this hour. His black hair is cropped short on the sides and longer on top._

_Both Shang warriors wear undyed breeches and jacket. The Wildcat's jacket is draped and baggy, while the Horse's jacket is tight around his heavy shoulders. Both wear soft, flexible cloth shoes._

"_For those who are new," the Horse says, "I am Hakuin Seastone, the Shang Horse. My colleague, who joined me this summer, is Eda Bell, the Shang Wildcat." The Horse's clear, mellow voice has no trace of the Yamani accent._

"_Don't go thinking you can bounce me all over the ground just because I look like somebody's grandmother," the Wildcat says dryly. "Some grandchildren need more raising than others, and I supply it." She grins, showing very white teeth._

_I see the red-headed Merric of Hollyrose swallow. I agree, the Wildcat looks tough._

"_You older lads, pair up and go through the first drill," the Horse orders. "Grandmother here will keep an eye on you. As for you new ones…" he says, beckoning them over to a corner of the yard. I join the other first-years. I hadn't been with the pages long enough to learn the drills from the Shang, so I'm stuck with the younger ones. Once we stand in front of the Horse, he continues, "Your first and most important lesson is, learn how to fall. Slap the ground as you hit and roll. Like this." He falls forward, using his arms to break his fall. I jump just the same as the other pages, not just the first-years. The sound and puff of dust he raised made that fall look more serious than it was._

_I suppress a groan. Learning to fall seems like it will incur quite a collection of bruises. The Horse gets to his feet and holds a hand out to Quinden of Marti's Hill. When the boy takes it, he finds himself soaring over Hakuin's hip. He only remembers to slap the ground after he landed._

"_You have to do that earlier, as you hit," Hakuin says gently, helping the blonde up. "Now." He beckons to call and offers a hand._

_Expecting her to go flying when Hakuin pulls her hand as Quinden had, I stare in disbelief as she turns, letting her back slide into the curve of his pulling arm as she grips him with both hands and draws him over her right hip. The Horse falters, then steadies, and sweeps Kel's feet out from under her. She releases his arm, then tucks and rolls forward as she hits the ground. She surges back to her feet and turns to face him, setting herself for the next attack._

_The Horse stands where she had left him, smiling wryly. A horrified expression crosses her face before she lays her hands flat on her thighs and bows, seeming to expect a blow or reprimand. When none came, she looks up through her bangs to see everyone, myself included, staring at her. She lowers her head again._

"_See what happens when you get too comfortable, Hakuin?" the Wildcat drawls. "Someone hands you a surprise. If you'd been a hair slower, she'd've tossed you."_

"_Isn't it bad enough I am humbled, without you adding your copper to the sum, Eda?" the Horse inquires. "Look at me, youngster?" he orders Kel. She obeys. I can see Hakuin's black eyes dancing with contained laughter. "Someone has studied in the Yamani Islands."_

"_Yes, sir," Kel whispers._

"_Your teacher was old Nariko, the emperor's training master, am I right? She always did like that throw. She drilled me in it so many times I wanted to toss her into a tree and leave her there." The Yamani emperor has a _woman_ as training master? That is unheard of in Tortall. If the monarchs here tried that, every conservative in the realm would balk and start a civil war over it._

_Kel nods, hiding what looks like a smile._

_The Horse looks at the older pages. "I believe you were practicing the first drill for the Wildcat?" he asks mildly. Instantly, a flurry of activity ensues from the older pages, patterns of kicks, throws, and punches. Hakuin turns back to Kel. "Come show the other new ones how to fall. While they practice, we can see what else you know."_

"_Just what they taught the court ladies," Kel says. "Mostly counters to being grabbed or struck."_

"_You were with the embassy?" he asks. Kel nods. "That explains everything." To the rest of us new pages he says, "Watch how Keladry falls."_

_The others stare at her with a combination of confusion and dislike, I stare with admiration and awe. If the Yamanis teach such tricks to their court ladies, I will never be rude to any Yamani female should I happen across one. With a sigh, Kel topples forward and smacks the ground._

_FLASH_

_I watch Joren and Kel from the corner of my eye, waiting to see what nasty scheme the blonde has up his sleeve. He is being far too nice to Kel, setting my senses on alert while turning hers off. As I suspected, Joren's staff shifts, sliding out of position for a block. He drives the lower end of his weapon below her guard, aiming for her ribs. Kel has to step out of line to foil it, earning a reprimand for doing so. Both the sergeant and the Stump had seen perfectly clearly what Joren had done, but had only corrected Kel. _

_My blood starts to boil in anger, and I focus more fully on the exercise before I brought their attention to the correct person to reprimand, very likely earning quite a bit of punishment duty in the process. "Come on, Queenscove!" Zahir, a tall Bazhir page, cries out. "Stop flinching!"_

_I glare at the boy as he continues driving me out of line, his staff a blur in the air. I block him each time, but just barely. The Stump and Ezeko come toward us. I feel like screaming at them to turn around and keep an eye on Kel. With their backs toward them, who knows what Joren will try against Kel? But in their eyes, Joren of Stone Mountain is a golden boy and can do no wrong. They either refuse to see or completely ignore Joren's use of hazing as a way to bully first-years. While I am at the bottom of their list, the oldest son of Duke Baird of Queenscove who should have stayed in the university to become a healer but decided to become a page to harass them. _

_The other boys have gathered around Zahir and I, blocking Joren and Kel from the training master's view. Blocking my view of them. It seems that I'm the only one who cares that Kel is being bullied simply for being a girl who dreams of becoming a knight. And there's nothing I can do about it without getting loaded down with punishment duty. I pray to whatever god would listen that Kel can hold Joren off._

_Finally, the Stump and Ezeko force the other pages back into line, showing Kel using some very fancy staff maneuvers to hold of Joren's blows until her staff is lightly pressed against the base of his neck. "What on _earth_ are you doing?" the Stump snaps. "That is not staff work as it is practiced here!"_

"_She trained in the palace of the Yamani emperor." That dry voice belongs to the Shang Wildcat. "They're taught the use of a long-bladed pike – a glaive – there. How old were you when you started, Keladry?"_

"_Six," she replies, lowering her staff to face the Stump._

_The training master is red with anger. "This is Tortall, not the Yamani Islands – you are a noble, not a savage with a pigsticker. You will follow the assigned drills, understand? No Yamani cartwheels, no sleight of hand."_

"_It might be wise to teach Yamani methods," the Shang Horse says. Both he and the Wildcat lean against the fence. Wyldon's claim that Yamanis are savages hasn't changed Hakuin's cheery look. "You are friends with the Islands now, but that hasn't always been so. Even with a royal marriage arranged, there are always misunderstandings," he adds._

"_I will take your words under advisement," Wyldon says tersely. 'No you won't,' I feel like saying, calling out his lie. "If we may now resume practice? With no more displays?"_

_I almost tell him that Kel wouldn't have _needed_ those displays if he and that harebrained sergeant had kept an eye on her and Joren instead of focusing on the rest of us, but stop myself just in time._

"_You practice with the probationer, Nealan," Ezeko orders. "All of you, back to positions."_

_At least now Kel won't be stuck with someone as cruel as Joren or someone who doesn't care enough to let her have her chance at becoming a knight, like all the other pages. I'm surprised even Prince Roald acts that way, with his older sister, Princess Kalasin, wishing she could be a knight. But their father, King Jonathon, had talked her out of it. Though the king had announced that any noble daughter is allowed to take up knight training, he obviously hadn't meant his own daughters._

_FLASH_

_Finally, the bell sounds to end archery practice. "Riding!" the Stump calls. "New boys, pick a mount from the spares. That horse will be yours to look after and ride for now. Saddle your mount and ride him out. Don't take forever!"_

_We set off for the pages at a trot. I notice when the other four male first-years start running full out to reach the stable before Kel. I already have my own mount from home, so I have no need to look at the palace spares. When Kel picks up her pace, the group of older pages ahead of her spread out and slow down, blocking her without acting like they know she wants to pass. But I know them, and I know they do know she wants to pass. I know that they want her to be stuck with the worst choices of spare mounts. _

_When we reach the stables, the other first-years have already made their selections and their sponsors lounge in front of the stalls, daring Kel to even look at those selections. Even Prince Roald does it, which infuriates me. Normally the prince is a good-natured youth, even if he's so polite he almost seems stiff. But even he wants Kel to go home, for what reason I cannot begin to fathom._

_All that are left are two horses. A chestnut mare that is practically stupid, even compared to horses that have not been near the palace and the Wildmage's magical influence. The other is a small destrier, larger than most of the other horses but not as big as warhorses. A strawberry roan gelding, Peachblossom is no man's friend._

_That devil horse had once had a much gentler spirit, but years of abuse, physical and mental, have turned him into a demon who only allows the chief hostler, Stefan Groomsman, to handle him; some of the hostlers with horse-magic can approach him, but he quickly tires of them and chases them off with hooves and teeth. He would also allow the Wildmage, but she rarely deals with the horses of nobles. She works with the mountain ponies that the Queen's Riders take as mounts, being assistant horse-mistress under Onua Chamtong._

_I work on Magewhisper, my horse, while keeping an eye on her. She advances first to the dumb mare._

"_She's the one you want," Stefan says, coming out of the shadows at the back of the stables. His clothes are spiked with hay and splashed with dried hors slobber. His blond hair always looks as if horses graze on it. Light blue eyes bulge slightly in his ruddy face. The mare ambles over and nuzzles him. "She's a bit slow, but she's steady. Peachblossom there's so ruined for knight's work – maybe ruined for work at all." Stefan shakes his head, eyes sad. "Dunno what I'll do with 'im if he won't take to cart or plow. They're after me to free up his box for when the new mounts come next week."_

_Stefan and I both know what will happen to Peachblossom if he's completely ruined for any form of work. Horses cost a lot of money to keep. If they don't pay for their stall and feed by working, unless they were good for stud, they were put down. It is too late for Peachblossom to become a stud horse._

_To my horror, Kel walks over to that demon gelding. She brings out an apple and offers it to Peachblossom. That monster spends more time examining Kel than the treat, but takes the apple all the same._

"_He won't bite, miss," Stefan says, going over to them. "Not with me about. But I can't make him stay good, not without neglecting the others. Sooner or later my effect on him will wear off. And he's got plenty of other tricks."_

_My blood runs cold at Kel's next words. "I'll take – did you say Peachblossom? If he doesn't work out, I'll trade him for one of these new horses you're expecting." The look in Kel's eyes says the exact opposite of her words. She'll keep that creature no matter what._

"_He's too big, miss," Stefan argues. "He's not for someone that's just learning how knights ride."_

"_Let me try, please. I won't hurt him."_

"_It's not him I'm worried for," the hostler insists. I agree. Peachblossom would do far more damage to Kel than she could ever do to him._

"_Have you made a choice, probationer?" the Stump demands. "We do ride out today, remember."_

_Stefan grasps Peachblossom's head and lays his face on the creature's muzzle. "You'll be good, all right? I want you to, and sitting here isn't what you're made for. Behave yourself, Peachblossom. You _do_ know how." He releases the horse and nods to Kel. "He'll fare all right for a time, at least. If he gets shifty, tell him Stefan said be good."_

_Resigned to watching Kel try to manage that brute of a horse, I walk Magewhisper out to the yard as Kel gets to work saddling that monster. Thankfully, the practice yard is far enough from the stables that the horses wouldn't constantly trying to run for home. Kel may be big for her age, but Peachblossom is big, too. If that horse raced for his stall, she'd be flutter behind him like a kite at the end of the reins._

_The Stump and the riding master stand beside the open gate to the yard and observed each page as we walk our mounts through. As soon as everyone is inside, the riding master orders us to form a line, the horses heads facing inward. The Stump closes the gate as the riding master inspects the horse. Once done, he quietly tells us to mount up._

"_Walk 'em sunwise," the riding master orders. "A foot between you and the next rider."_

_I could have told Kel that her demon of a horse has a mouth as hard as stone. She gets the horse walking just as Wyldon ordered, "Move him along, probationer!"_

_As we're put through our paces, I manage keep an eye on Kel and Peachblossom just behind me. I don't trust that monster near my horse. The lesson is a series of contests between Kel and her tricky gelding._

_FLASH_

_Finally, the bell rings for the third afternoon class. "History and the law of the realm," I murmur to Kel as we walk into the room. "You'll like this!" I slap the desk next to mine. "Sit here. Sir Myles doesn't care where we put ourselves."_

"_Sir Myles?" she asks._

"_Sir Myles, Baron of Olau, our teacher in history and law," I explain. "Why do you ask?"_

_She runs a finger over a scratch in her desktop. "He's the Lioness's father," she says shyly._

"_Adoptive father actually," I say as the small, chubby man enters the room. Sir Myles is long-haired and bearded, dressed today in a dark blue tunic over a dark gray linen shirt and gray hose. His green-brown eyes are sharp as he looks us over._

"_Here we are, trembling on the brink of a new year," he says. He ambles up to the front of the room and leans against the wall. "I'm pleased to see no one swung his scythe too hard and cut of his own head –"_

"_But not for lack of trying!" Cleon jokes._

_The knight raises his brows. "You did not have to say that," he says mildly. "You would not be worthy to be a page if you were not always trying something." He perched on a tall stool. "Well, we've had quite a year," he says companionably. "Will someone explain why calling the recent deluge of battles the Immortals War is misleading? Your highness?"_

_The prince ducks his head, but replies in a clear voice. "Because immortals – Stormwings, spidrens, ogres – were in the fight, but they were just allies to Scanrans, Copper Islanders, and Charthaki renegades. They weren't the leaders."_

_Sir Myles doesn't care whether we, as his students, stand to answer as the priests do. "Very good." He looks around. "How many of your home fiefs took damage in the fighting?"_

_Hands all over the room go up, mine and Kel's included. Not a single part of the realm has gone unscathed by the war._

"_How many know someone who was killed?"_

_Hands go up again, mine and Kel's among them again. I knew several mages at the university and a few people in Queenscove who had gone down during the fight. No member of my family, thankfully, was killed, though several were seriously injured._

"_These losses are felt," Sir Myles tells us. "Their majesties honor their sacrifice, and we all wish that it had not been needed." As hands go down, he briskly says, "Why did this happen? How did Scanra, the Copper Isles, and the Carthaki rebels come to assault our shores? Joren?"_

_The boy lounges at his desk, obviously bored. "The King's Champion killed a Copper Island princess thirteen years ago."_

"_That is one reason: bad blood. "It doesn't explain the Carthakis and the Scanrans."_

_Joren shrugs. "Scanrans always raid us. They don't need a reason."_

"_But they do have reasons," Sir Myles points out. "Pressing ones that send them against us year after year. Put the Carthakis aside for now. Consider our gentle neighbors to the north. What riches do they have?"_

"_Furs?" Faleron suggests._

"_Rocks," Cleon adds, getting the laugh he had intended. I shake my head at his foolery._

_The discussion goes on, ranging from poor Scanrans with failed crops to the destruction of the old Carthaki emperor and the installation of the new one, Kaddar. When the bell rings, it surprises me, and obviously Kel as well. We had lost all track of time._

"_So, what do you think of the king's spymaster?" I murmur in her ear as we leave the classroom._

_She stops dead in her tracks. "What?"_

_I smirk. "You didn't know. Myles of Olau isn't just a teacher and a member of the King's Counsel. He's King Jonathon's spymaster."_

"_You're making that up," she accuses._

"_Why?" I ask. "My father says he's the best spymaster the realm's had. It comes from Sir Myles going into trade to mend the Olau finances. His merchants send him all kinds of information – he just expands on it."_

"_Maybe you shouldn't tell. Maybe it's supposed to be a secret," she points out._

_I shrug. "It's not talked of openly, but it's no secret. What's secret is who's his second in command, the one who does the legwork." I steer her into our next classroom._

_She comes to a full stop again, all thoughts of our prior conversation evaporating from her mind. One entire wall of the classroom is filled with windows. Two other walls are lined with shelves of glass containers, enclosing plants, water, food dishes, even animals or fish. The other first-years are as amazed as Kel._

"_Go ahead, look closer," I say. "Master Lindhall likes us to take an interest in animals."_

_A small turtle is trying to bite Kel's index finger through the glass when a small, living skeleton lands on her outstretched arm. The creature is made of bones and air, and had flown to perch on her with empty wings that are like slender fans made of very long finger bones. I had never seen Bonedancer land on someone like that before._

_It tilts its long, pointed skull back and forth, looking Kel over. Leaning over, it clatters its jaws at her, then bites her nose gently. "Bone!" Master Lindhall strides over, brushing silvery blond hair from his eyes. He is taller than Kel by a foot, his skin tanned and weathered, with broad cheeks and pale blue eyes. "You must excuse Bonedancer," he tells Kel in his soft and breathy voice. "There was no such thing as manners when he was alive, so he thinks he need not learn them now."_

_The living fossil looks at him and clatters its jaws. Kel looks from the skeleton to Master Lindhall. "I don't understand."_

_He smiles. "A mage was briefly granted the power to raise the dead last year. Bonedancer was one of the things she brought back to life. He was a fossil then, and a fossil he remains. He's just rather more lively than most fossils."_

_I roll my eyes. Though Master Lindhall had tried to explain things, he hadn't been as clear as someone not from a university, like Kel, would need him to be to understand. "Thank you, sir," Kel says politely. I get the feeling that she'll ask me about Bonedancer later._

"_I'm Lindhall Reed," he says to her and the other first-years. "I am one of your teachers in the study of plants and animals. Have a seat, you new ones. As for everyone else, who has brought me a plant from home?" he asks. I reach into my belt purse to draw out some leaves and stems wrapped in parchment as the senior pages do the same. Kel takes a desk near the turtle._

_After Master Lindhall's class, the boys with a magical Gift, myself included, go to study magecraft. Kel and the magic-less boys have a class with Tkaa. She promises to tell me about it later. I have always been interested in how the basilisk teaches his class, but have never had the opportunity to see him in action. I most likely never will, since my class in magic takes place at the same time as his class in the ways of immortals._

_I rejoin Kel for the last class of the day, etiquette taught by Upton Oakbridge, the royal master of ceremonies. I never thought it would happen, but there is one man I hate worse than the Stump, and that would be Master Oakbridge. The man is far too proper and seems to live to find those at fault in manners, among other things._

_To make matters worse, his classroom is hot and the work so boring that most boys have to fight to stay awake. As the class draws to a close, we each receive a book and are assigned to report on its first chapter for the next day. Something about the title makes Kel grin. Oakbridge is on her instantly. "What amuses you, probationary page?"_

"_Nothing, sir," she says as she gets to her feet._

"_But you are amused, it was quite clear. You must share the joke with us, probationary page, now, if you please." He stands before her desk, on fist planted solidly on a hip, his foot tapping briskly._

"_Master Oakbridge –"_

"_Lord Wyldon shall school you properly in the matter of excuses. I will accept no more evasion, probationary page!"_

'_Must he constantly refer to her as that?' I wonder in agitation. 'She _does_ have a name, after all.'_

_Kel opens the book and points to the author's name. "Sir, the writer is my father."_

_Oakbridge snatches the book away and scowls at the title page. "What of that?" he demands. "The child does not have all of his father's knowledge."_

_That did it. ""Excuse me, Master Oakbridge," I say in my friendliest voice, "but Kel doesn't have all of _her_ father's knowledge. Not his."_

_Dropping her carefully blank mask, Kel glares at me. Oakbridge also glares at me. "The majority of you are lads. Proper usage calls for male pronouns when males are part of the group."_

"_Except that you addressed Kel alone, which then demands the exact term." The look in Kel's eyes promises me that she will not forget this. Thankfully, it is not possible to kick someone eight chairs away._

_Oakbridge gives me a look that would have stripped paint. It has no effect on me. Then he turns back to Kel. "You have not answered me," he says. "Have you your father's knowledge? You are but a child."_

"_Yamani etiquette is serious," Kel replies, her face carefully blank once more. "Especially at the emperor's court. People have their heads cut off if they don't bow right." I will definitely avoid the Yamani emperor's court in the future. I like my head right where it is and I'd rather not have it rolling on the floor, separated from my body._

_Oakbridge stares at Kel for a moment, then purses his lips. "Review the entire volume tonight, probationary page Keladry," he announces. "Tomorrow you will report on those parts that are familiar to you, and which parts, if any, are not. Should I be satisfied as to the breadth and depth of your knowledge, I may call on you to assist me in preparing for courtesies to the Yamanis." To the rest of us he explains, "As I am certain his highness is well aware,' – he looks at Prince Roald, who nods – "their majesties have arranged for a state visit next fall by Princess Chisakami of the Yamani Empire. When she arrives, we shall know how to greet her and her attendants properly, according to their own custom. To that end –"_

_The final bell of the afternoon rings, cutting him off. We gather our papers and books and leave the room as quickly as possible without upsetting Oakbridge too much. No one likes his class, and everyone is glad when it ends. I wait for Kel outside the room. She's the last one out. "So, probationary page …" I grin as Kel makes a face. "How long did you live with the Yamanis?" We head back to our rooms while we talk._

"_Six years," she replies. "Longer than I've lived in Tortall, actually."_

"_Can you speak –" I start as we stop before her door. I interrupt myself to sniff the air. "What's that smell?"_

_Kel leans closer to the door and sniffs. "Urine," she says. There's a pool of yellowish liquid on the threshold. "I'd better clean it up."_

"_No," I order. "You have to change for supper. I'll tell Salma and meet you in the mess hall. Get moving." I trot away, shaking my head._

_I knew they would go to other tricks if they couldn't mess up Kel's room, but this? Disgusting! How could they even call themselves _pages_ if they do stunts like this to a woman? Knights are supposed to treat women with courtesy, and these louts have none._

_After telling Salma about the mess, I wait for Kel outside the doors to the mess hall. She arrives sooner than I'd expected. My ten-year-old sister takes forever to get ready for a meal, like all the women I know. Kel seems to be an exception to that factor. Actually, she's an exception to most things one would expect from a normal woman or a woman following Lady Alanna's footsteps._

_Once our trays are filled, we head to the table we claimed as our own and sit down. When Kel picks up her fork, I shake my head. She looks around, seeing that everyone had taken their places but no one has touched their food. She raises her eyebrows at me. "No Stump," I whisper._

_Everyone starts to fidget. I think I even heard Kel's stomach growl. Just as my limited patience finally wears out, the doors open. The squires jump to their feet and bow. Someone whispers, "The king."_

_Then everyone is up and bowing as the king and Wyldon walk to the Stump's small table. I notice Kel stare at the king. I have to admit, the king is very handsome. He is an inch shorter than the Stump, but the training master fades to nothing beside him. King Jonathon's neatly trimmed hair and beard are coal black, framing a face tanned from the summer spent outdoors. His nose is straight and proud, his eyes a deep, brilliant sapphire with long lashes. On other men, the lashes might have seemed feminine, but not on the king. I am constantly seeing young women obtaining crushes on the mere sight of him._

_The king grins, white teeth flashing against his black beard. "Don't let me keep you from your meal," he says in a clear baritone. "I remember what it was like from my own days at those tables."_

"_If your majesty will give the blessing?" the Stump asks, half bowing._

_The king nods. He steps up to the lectern, raising his hands. "Bright Mithros, Great Mother, all gods powerful and small, grant us your blessings and guidance, we humbly pray." He brings his hands together, causing us to realize he had finished._

"_So mote it be," we say raggedly. We had all expected a longer prayer, used to long ones from the Stump._

"_Now eat," the king says. "After your dong, I'd like a word." He and the Stump sit at Wyldon's table. The fourth-year page whose task it is to sever them rushes to put food before the two men._

_I watch Kel as she slowly eats her food. Her thoughts seem to be somewhere else entirely, so I decide not to try talking to her. She glances at me and smiles upon seeing me eat my cake while letting my vegetables get cold. It's not that I don't like vegetables; I actually enjoy them. It's just eating them is far less interesting than eating sweets._

_Once we have all finished eating, the king goes to stand at the lectern again. "Don't get up," he says as we all begin to rise. "If memory serves me, your legs are starting to get sore right about now."_

_A number of the boys chuckle. I don't, and I notice Kel doesn't either; she is looking at her hands in her lap instead. I refuse to laugh at the jokes of a king who would allow a girl to be put on probation and deny his own daughter her right to try and claim a shield when years earlier he had announced young noblewomen can try for their shields, not mentioning probations or denying royal daughters the privilege._

"_I won't keep you long," the king promises. "I really just wanted to look at you. We survived the Immortals War, as they're calling it. We survived, but at a price. You know as well as I how many knights were lost, how many crippled. Thanks to Lord Wyldon, you older pages and squires were also able to fight, to defend our people. You did well – but I can see that there are faces gone from this room who were present last fall. We shall miss those who are gone. Our enemies have tried to destroy us. They failed – but we are hurt. Inside these walls, I can tell you, we are hurt. Our healing will be the work of years." No one speaks or moves. "Most importantly," he continues, speaking as he might his closest friends, "it is the work of _your_ years. Your studies, your bruises, your saddle sores, your nights spent doing mathematics, and history, and mapmaking. Your mastery of the arts of war, and the laws of the realm."_

_King Jonathon pauses for a moment, his eyes exploring our faces. "Each of you here is a gem, all the more precious because we lost so many. Combined, you are the treasure of the kingdom. Treat yourselves as such. Work hard, study hard, and know your value. Guard your strength, make it grow. Build your stores of learning. Do it not for yourselves or your teachers or your monarchs. Do it for the kingdom. Do it for us all." He looks us over one last time, nods briskly, and strides from the hall. He is gone before any of us remember to bow._

_Even I feel eager for the adventure of becoming a knight in this age. Then I realize Kel's eyes are on me, and smile. "Isn't this a great time to be alive?" I ask. "Stormwings and spidrens to fight, beings from legends arrayed at our sides, people in need of protection and us being prepared to do it … Nothing happened in King Roald's time, and everything's happening now. We'll be sung about, our names will be passed on to our descendants."_

"_It's going to take a lot of work, that's for certain," she replies with a shrug._

_I realize something about her. I prop my chin on one hand and gaze at her. "You aren't a bit romantic, are you?" I ask, amused._

_She sits back and stares at me, obviously thinking I must need a keeper. "Romance? Isn't that love-stuff?" she asks finally._

"_It's more than just love. It's color, and – and fire. You don't want things magnificent and filled with – with grandeur," I ask, trying to make her understand. "You know, drama. Importance. Transcendent passion." Where had that last one come from?_

"_I just want to be a knight," she retorts, putting her used tableware on her tray. "Eat your vegetables. They're good for you."_

_FLASH_

_Five weeks after the king's speech, I stand before Kel's door. She is holed up in her room while Roald and I wait in mine so we can all study together. I hear a yelp on the other side of the door, and knock. "Kel, open up. It's me, Neal." As if she couldn't recognize my voice._

_She mutters something and moments later lets me in. As I step into her room, I see cat figurines on her mantle, each cat with a paw raised as if waving. "Why are those things waving?"_

_She smiles. "The legend is that a cat waving to the first emperor drew him out of the path of an enemy arrow. The Yamanis make hundreds of them. They're supposed to bring luck."_

"_Good thing you have so many, then," I remark, picking one up and examining it._

_She makes a face at me. "Very funny." She hobbles over and puts the cat back where it was._

"_I _thought_ you were limping in the mess. Have a seat and let me take a look," I say._

"_The door stays open," she warns me._

"_Yes, yes, yes. Why are you holed up in here?" I demand. "Come study with Roald and me."_

"_I will," she says, wincing as she lowers herself onto her bed. "I just had to finish a letter home. I wanted to thank them for the cakes and things."_

_I grab her footstool and, putting it by the bed, sit on it. I gently lift her swollen foot onto my knees. "And you say Peachblossom wasn't trying to hurt you?" I say. Her foot is one large bruise._

"_He wasn't," she retorts. "If he'd been _trying,_ he'd have broken it. I really think he's starting to like – ow!"_

"_There's no reason why you should have this kind of pain," I mutter, inspecting her toes. "It figures. You aren't at all ticklish."_

"_Very funny," she retorts, eying me nervously. "What are you going to do?"_

"_Fix it," I say. "Foot bruises take forever to heal without help."_

"_I don't know," she protests, carefully drawing her foot away. "The Yamanis say it's better to live with pain. You have to let it roll away like water off a stone. That way it doesn't have any power over you."_

"_They sound like wonderful, cheerful people," I comment. "Any other useful warrior stoic arguments?"_

_Kel shakes her head. "What would Lord Wyldon say if he knew? He told us knights work through pain all the time. He does it himself, you can see it hurts him to use that arm." The Stump, ignoring my father's protests, had shed his sling a week after the start of classes and uses his right arm now in weapon practice and riding. "Sometimes there's no healer around, or others need a healer more than you."_

"_Well, you're neither a stone nor a Yamani nor the Stump, in case you haven't noticed," I say tartly. She can obviously keep this argument up all night if she wants to. "And it's foolish to stint on healing in a palace full of mages. Don't argue anymore." My voice is firm, but my hands gentle as I draw her leg back onto my knees. I rest her foot in my hands and bow my head, concentrating. The soft light of my magic, such a deep green as to be nearly black, shimmers between my palms and her flesh. She sighs as it sinks under her skin, softening the pain until it's gone. Her toes shrink back to normal as the pain leaves._

"_I can't believe you gave up learning to be a healer," she says when I release her foot. "I can't believe you're happier as a page. An _old_ page, at that!"_

_I make a face. "I can name three who were older when they started."_

"_Please don't," she says hurriedly. She knows that once I start giving lists of things, even a list as short as three persons, I won't be content until I explain away how I learned the names and everything else I learned. She knows it's best not to let me get started. She says, "And don't tell me you did all this to be one of the oldest first-year pages in the realm."_

_I sigh, looking at my hands. "On the Great Roll of Knights in the Hall of Crowns, twelve Queenscove knights are listed – only the Naxen have more. In 'The Scroll of Salute', King Jonathon the first wrote that four houses were the shield of Tortall: Legann, Naxen, ha Minch, and Queenscove. My brothers thought knighthood was the greatest service they could give."_

"_But it isn't the only service _you_ can give," she protests. "You've got brains. You've got the magical Gift. Why are you bashing about here?"_

"_Keeping you out of trouble," I say cheerfully. "Try resting your weight on that." As Kel stands, then walks under my gaze, I continue, "As to that ill-tempered nag of yours, I have an idea."_

"_He's not a nag, and I won't take another horse."_

"_I _know_ that," I say, exaggeratedly patient. We've gone through _that_ particular argument more times than I care to count. "But perhaps we can have someone talk to him on your behalf. Come on."_

_I lead her on a brisk walk through the classroom floor to a broad stair, up two flights, and down a hall. "The academics' rooms are on this floor and the one below," I explain. "Some of our teachers – the ones who aren't priests – live here. You won't get these two until later in the year in magic class." I stride to a door decorated with a bronze nameplate. _Numair Salmalin_ is engraved in the metal; below it, in letters more recently added, is the name _Veralidaine Sarrasri._ I rap hard on the door, then wait, shifting my weight from foot to foot nervously._

_The door opens a crack and a young woman peers out. Brown curls tumble around a face lit by blue-grey eyes. Her mouth is soft, her chin roundly stubborn. "Neal, hello," she whispers with a smile. "Did you want Numair? He's sleeping. He was up all last night and half today on a working."_

"_Actually, Daine, I wanted to ask a favor of you," I reply, keeping my own voice low, feeling even more nervous than a moment ago. "It's for my friend Kel, here. And her horse."_

_Daine walks into the hall, closing the door softly behind her. "A horse?"_

"_He's contrary and mean," I explain, "and Kel here won't give him up. Keladry of Mindelan, this is Veralidaine Sarrasri. Daine, Kel."_

_Kel bows._

"_You're the one Bonedancer likes," Daine tells her with a nod. "Lindhall says he's taken to you. And Neal doesn't like your horse."_

_Kel shrugs. "We were thinking – I was thinking – you might take a look," I explain. "He's got a mouth like stone – can it be fixed? And he's mean clear-through."_

"_Let me see him," Daine replies. "What's his name?" she asks, her eyes focused on Kel's._

"_Peachblossom," Kel says._

"_Peachblossom? Not one I know; but then, I have little to do with the nobles' horses," she explains. "Let's have a look at him."_

_I talk to Daine as we walk down to the stable, asking about people we know. Kel fallows us silently._

_It isn't until we reach the stable that I realize that Kel's silence isn't her usual silence. She felt out of place while walking with Daine and I. I mentally slap myself. I just made such a fool of myself in front of Kel. And now it's too late to right the wrong because we have already entered the stables. All of the horses come to the front of their stalls to greet Daine._

_With shyness I haven't seen since she first arrived, Kel points out her gelding to Daine. The Wildmage goes to Peachblossom and stands nose-to-nose with him, her hands cupped under the horse's chin. He is more relaxed with Daine than I have ever seen him. I make the mistake of trying to stroke him. The demon horse's ears go back, up goes his head. I snatch my hand away before it can get bitten. "Excuse _me,"_ I mutter._

_Ignoring me, Daine runs her hands over the horse, inspecting every inch. Kel and I watch the examination. Peachblossom seems to like Daine's touch. When she finishes, he rests his nose against her gown, which is now covered with horsehair._

"_What do you want of him? Daine asks Kel. "I can soften his mouth, but if you're forever dragging at the rein, it'll just get hard again. Stefan's done wonders with this scars, though Peachblossom says they still pain him some. I can mend those, but if you make him fight and you spur him as some do their mounts, he'll be scarred again. And I can't change his nature for you. Peachblossom is who he is; no one has the right to take that away."_

"_I wouldn't ask it," Kel replies firmly. Of course she wouldn't. Gods know why, but she's in love with the demon horse. "We get on all right." I snort in disbelief. Kel ignores me, telling Daine, "If he didn't hurt from his scars, that might help, and softening his mouth would be a blessing. I'm not one for using the rein hard."_

"_That's what he says. He also says that if you promise never to use spurs, he'll mind his manners a bit more."_

"_She has to have spurs when we get to riding in armor," I point out. "The St – Lord Wyldon makes all third- and fourth-years wear them."_

"_There are spurs that don't cut the horse," Daine says quietly. "Peachblossom will settle for those. You really want to keep him?"_

_Kel shrugs. "It's drawing carts or death if I don't."_

"_I'll buy him," Daine offers. "I think I have enough. I'd take him off your hands and find you a better mount."_

_Peachblossom turns his head away from Daine to look at Kel. A flash of pain crosses her eyes as she looks at him. She obviously admires the big gelding's independence, the way he doesn't seem to care if people like him or not. Anyone with sense and half a brain can see that._

_Peachblossom puts two hooves back, then two more. Another step and he can turn away from Daine to face Kel. His ears twitch forward. When Kel holds out her open hand – as I wince – Peachblossom lowers his head and softly lips her palm._

"_That's that," Daine remarks. "He says you need looking after."_

"_I never thought I'd end up agreeing with a horse," I murmur._

_Peachblossom's ears go flat and he blows a wad of spit onto my shirt. "He also says because he will let Kel ride him doesn't mean he has to be nice to everyone," Daine remarks, her eyes twinkling. "Come to me, Peachblossom. We've still your hurts to mend." To Kel, she adds, "I'll teach him spoken commands for when you need him to go faster. You won't need spurs with those."_

_I stare down at my shirt in disgust. That will be hell for the laundry maids to clean out. Not to mention that I have to wear this back into the castle to reach my rooms. When Daine finishes with Peachblossom, I walk her back to her rooms, again forgetting until too late that I would hurt Kel's feelings through such actions. Kel went back to the pages' wing alone._

_FLASH_

_In the mess hall the next morning, I squint at Kel as she toys with her breakfast rather than eat it. "You look as bad as I feel,' I croak. "Where's the sunny smile? The 'Hello, Neal, isn't it a _wonderful_ day to be alive in the royal palace?' pain-in-the-bum greeting I usually get?"_

_I watch as she seems to consider throwing her porridge in my face and decide against it. "I don't know," she says at last. "Why don't you go look for it?"_

_I sit up in surprise. "Ouch. It bites."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?" she demands sharply, seeming to tire of hiding her feelings. "That I'll say 'yes' and 'so mote' to anything, smile and go along no matter what? Never argue, never complain?"_

_I look at her, waking up more with every word. I run my fingers through my hair. "What's gotten into you? Did somebody put hot peppers in your wash water?"_

"_Nothing," she snaps, slamming her bowl onto her tray and carrying it to the servants._

_I catch her at the mess door. "Did anything happen last night after you left?" I ask, concerned. Something is definitely bugging her to cause her to lose her calm so badly._

"_Nothing," she says, biting off the words. "Not one gods-blest thing." She leaves me to finish my breakfast and goes to her room, leaving me wondering what had really happened last night after we separated._

_I should have gone with her; the gods only know what Joren and his crowd has done to upset her so much. And it has to be those boys, as the rest of the pages have taken to either ignoring her or treating her civilly over the course of the past five weeks, realizing she won't leave just because they shun her._

_When we arrive at the stables later in the morning, new equipment had been placed beside our normal gear. I groan at the sight of the saddle boasting a high, padded front and back. It has come to tilting at last. I hated that form of fighting just _watching_ it. Now I'll have to actually take part in it. Extra hands had come to show the first-years how to handle all the new gear: saddle, reins, double girths, and breast collars._

_I glance over in Kel's direction and sigh with relief. Stefan is the only hostler who bothers with Peachblossom anymore; he's no common stable hand, but he doesn't seem to mind teaching Kel. I return my focus to the workings of this new gear. I listen to the conversation a few stalls over as I attempt to copy how the hostler had just put the new gear on._

"_Peachblossom says you didn't want Daine changing him."_

"_She wouldn't do it."_

_I grunt as I heave the saddle onto Magewhisper's back. Damn, but this new gear is _heavy!_ It is a good thing these horses can handle carrying knights in full armor. I wouldn't want to be a horse with this stuff on my back._

"_But you didn't want her to."_

"_It seemed bad. Like, I don't know, like taking his soul."_

"_Not that buckle, the one next to it."_

_I manage to get all the buckles in the right place on the first try. Now to attempt to climb into the saddle._

"_He also says you promised not to rowel him." Rowel is another name for the pointed star-shaped spur favored by most knights._

"_That's right."_

"_How will you get him to go faster?"_

"_She gave me words to say to him."_

"_She's clever, that Daine." Pause. "I didn't think you'd be one for the spur. Try to mount, now."_

"_I have to do this in _armor?"_ Kel asks incredulously. I agree. I bang my leg a couple times before managing to clear the high back. This is going to take some getting used to. "About Peachblossom – I'd like to know who treated him so badly."_

_Stefan chuckles. "Don't fret about that. Leave it to me. The one that did it, he won't abuse another mount. You have my word."_

_I gently tap Magewhisper's sides with my heals, urging my mount out of the stable. I pass Kel as she leans down to tell Peachblossom, "I think I'll stay on his good side. Just in case."_

_I agree with that. I've only seen Stefan in a rage once, and I am glad that it had not been directed at me. The man on whom the rage was focused will never even _look_ at another mount without remembering his encounter with a furious Stefan, much less go near one._

_As usual, though, Kel is the last page to reach the riding yard. The Stump stands just inside the gate, a row of lances set against the fence beside him. Joren stands there, too. As each page passes by, Joren passes a lance up to him. He even passes one to me, but leaves the last one against the fence for Kel to get herself while he mounts his horse with his own lance. This arouses my suspicion._

"_Take it," Wyldon orders Kel, with a sharp nod to the lone lance._

_My suspicion is confirmed when Kel leans down and has to drag the weapon to her. No one should have such trouble with a practice lance. Even young children can pick them up easily. Kel shouldn't have a problem. Either Joren or one of his cronies had weighted the thing, most likely with lead. But even if I tried to tell Kel, she'd tell me I was acting silly. I highly doubt that the Stump would care, even if he believed me, which would never happen. So I have to keep silent for now._

_Then a thought occurs to me. If Kel can master the quintain with a weighted practice lance, then she could easily handle the larger lances used by knights. A much better reason to keep quiet, though it goes against my ethics to let her use that thing without letting her know of the trick that is being played on her._

_The pages line up; as Kel guides Peachblossom into line beside Seaver, the Stump rides to stand in front of them._

"_Before the immortals came, there was a clamor to cut jousting from tournaments," he says loudly. "It was said to be too risky. Even with a coromanel, a wide-faced piece, on the lance tip, to soften the impact, it was too dangerous. So few battles are fought between mounted knights, it was said. It was time to retire the lance. Tradition must change to come in step with modern times."_

_The Stump turns his mount to the far end of the field, where five quintains – dummies painted like warriors and set on wooden posts – stand. In place of each quintain's left arm is a wooden shield with a target circle painted on it. In place of the right arm is a pole weighted at the end by a sandbag._

_Wyldon braces his lance under his right arm and lowers it until it is level; once in place, it pointed at an angle across the mare's withers, into the air on Wyldon's left._

_I roll my eyes. Now comes the time for some idiotic first-year who has never seen a tournament to ask why the training master settles his lance like that rather than sticking it straight out in front. On cue, Merric, this fall's idiotic first-year, raises a hand and asks, "My lord?"_

_The stump raises his eyebrows._

"_Shouldn't it stick out straight in front of you, not across your saddle horn?"_

_The senior pages chuckle, causing Merric to turn bright red at their amusement. I merely sigh; the same thing happens every year, like some tradition of idiocy._

"_Have you seen many tournaments?" the Stump inquires._

_Merric shakes his head, still blushing. "None, my lord."_

"_I could do it that way," the training master says. "Of course, I'd point my lance into the open air at my enemy's side. I'd risk walloping my own mount in the head. I assure you, they don't care for that. And once my lance goes past my opponent, what would happen?"_

_Merric shakes his head, speechless with humiliation._

"_Your horse rams your opponent's mount head on," Prince Roald says quietly. "Chances are you wouldn't be able to get him out of the way in time."_

"_Aim for your opponent's chest with the lance pointed straight ahead, and by the time you've hit him, you cannot turn your horse aside," the Stump tells us. "Strike his shield at the right point, and the power of your blow will either break the shield or drive him all the way out of the saddle – and you can still turn your mount away from the enemy. Do you understand now?" he asks Merric._

_The boy nods, his blush fading._

"_Always leave an escape route for your charger," Wyldon says. He turns to face the quintain. Kicking his horse into a run, he thunders down on the target. As he nears it, he stands and leans forward. His lance tip strikes the circle painted on the quintain's shield. The dummy swings in a half turn and the training master thunders by. At the end of the yard, he turns his bay gelding, riding back to us._

"_What is the best defense for a lone knight against a giant?" he cries._

"_The lance!" the senior pages all shout. I refuse to join them. This series of questions always ends in one that has a large fault in the answer the Stump expects and always gets._

"_What is the best defense against an ogre?" Wyldon demands._

"_The lance," all the pages shout. Kel and I are the only ones who remain silent._

"_Against a charging line of foot soldiers?" Now the riding master joins us, carrying his own lance._

"_A lance!"_

"_If the foot soldiers aren't armed with pikes, anyway," I mutter, revealing the fault in that last answer. Pikes are heavy spears fourteen feet or longer. Used properly, they're defeat for horsemen, who always spear their mounts on the pikes well before they even get within striking distance of the pikemen._

_But I know it is better not to point that out to the Stump, though. He won't even hear of it, misleading the other pages into thinking that they can defeat even pikemen when they are horsed and carry a lance. That would spell the deaths of those foolish enough to try the theory._

* * *

Sarah: well, that's it for chapter 3. Since this document has become nearly forty pages long, I will continue with the memories over time. Hope I didn't bore you all with the length of this chapter. Please review.


	5. More Memories

In Love  
DG32173

Sarah: here's chapter four of _In Love._ I hope you have enjoyed the story so far. I only own my story, my idea, and my characters. Everything else belongs to the talented Tamora Pierce. Neal's memory-dreams this chapter will be taken from the second book of Kel's quartet, _Page._

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_  
I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE UBER LONG DELAY IN UPDATING! Here is the next chapter for this story. This one chapter has more memories from Neal's view, but there is a bit at the very beginning that _isn't_ flashbacks. Next chapter will _not_ have flashbacks, for those of you who don't like rereading what was in the books, even if it's from a different perspective.

Eh, I'm sorry for that mistake! Please forgive me! It was a very bad typo.

_Shazam (anonymous reviewer)_  
Here, at last, is your update. I'm sorry about the long delay.

_**NOTE  
**_**(Authors note)  
**"Talking"  
'Thinking'  
Scene change  
**POV change**  
_Memory/dream  
__FLASH_ – scene change in dream_  
Scene change in memory_

* * *

Chapter 4  
More Memories

Neal _knows_ he shouldn't be doing this. He _knows_ he should be asleep in his own bed. He _knows_ she'll kill him if she wakes up and sees him here. But right at this moment, he doesn't care. He just loves watching Kel sleep. It's so fascinating. He never knew that she actually _talks_ in her sleep.

The first time he decided to do this crazy stunt was two weeks ago. He just wanted to know what she looks like when she's asleep. She is very careful about how much emotion she allows to show in her face and eyes when she's awake. But no one can control their features when they're sleeping, not even Kel.

He was surprised that she looked so gentle and relaxed. He was about to leave, his curiosity sated, when she said "Neal?" She spoke so clearly he thought she had woken up and saw him. He froze and looked back at her, expecting her to be furious. But she merely turned over and murmured "Neal."

His curiosity spiked again when he realized she was talking in her sleep. _And_ she dreams of him? That boggled his mind. So he stayed for about a candle mark longer, fascinated by what her subconscious revealed when she slept.

He glances out the window and sighs. Tonight she is dreaming of him again, scolding him in her sleep. He's had to suppress laughter several times for fear of waking her up. He wants to stay longer, but he knows that if he does, he might fall asleep in here. If he makes _that_ mistake, she will definitely let him have it in the morning.

He sighs again and quietly slips out of her rooms, closing the door behind him. He then goes to his own rooms for bed. Laying on his bed and looking out the window, he makes up his mind on a decision he's been trying to make for the past two weeks. Midwinter is only three weeks away and he has been debating with himself the pros and cons of kissing Kel on the fourth day of Midwinter, the day gifts are exchanged. Now that he's decided to do it, he just has to gather his courage to actually _kiss_ her.

He closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe in and out slowly so that he can fall asleep. In seconds, it works, carrying him into dreams about Kel. These dreams are more memories he made with her.

_He was sixteen again, in the hill country that Wyldon had taken them to the summer after his and Kel's second year as pages. Faleron was in charge of him, Kel, Prosper, Merric, Owen, and Seaver. They were grouped up to hunt game at their second camp site._

_They had just rounded the corner of the valley they were searching to happen upon the camp of bandits. Faleron frantically gestures them to back up, but too late. A mangy dog howled the alarm; Jump snarled in answer. The napping hillmen scrambled to their feet._

"_Run!" Faleron yelled._

_They were a hundred feet down the valley when the pounding of hooves sound behind them. The bandits came into view on ugly, rugged horses that looked just as mean as their masters. They swept out and around the pages, cutting off their escape route. Jump raced into the fray. He leaped and fastened his jaws on a rider's arm; his weight pulled the man from th4e saddle, causing his horse to rear, panicked by its master's fall. Two other men swerved to avoid and collided, going down in a tangle of screaming horses. Kel's sparrows arrived, chattering in rage as they attack the raiders' eyes._

"_Jump, come!" Kel screamed beside him. "Faleron, orders?"_

_But Faleron was uncertain about what to do, staring at the riders as his eyes flick from those on the right to those on the left. Kel then turned to Neal, who was just as bewildered as their leader. The other three were staring at her for her lead._

"_Neal, Prosper!" she yelled seconds later, naming the two pages with the Gift. "Blind 'em, hide us, confuse 'em, _now!_ Bows! One shot, aim for the horses, then fall behind the spears!"_

_He had to admit, she kept a cool head in battle. He blinked and shed his paralysis. Green fire poured from his hands, spreading in streams through the air. He made it bend and ripple, veiling them enough that the enemy couldn't see them to target them. Prosper stared blankly at his spear. Kel grabbed it and yelled _"Now!"

_Light flared in front of Prosper, white edged with blue. It would briefly blind anyone looking at him or those near him. _"Bows,"_ Kel shouted again as Jump scrambled through the dust to reach her._

_Faleron, Merric, and Owen set arrows to their strings and loosed as Kel glanced behind them. "Fall back to the cliff, bows and mages first, then spears!" she cried. "Who's got the horn?"_

"_Me," Faleron said, coughing from the dust. He took a swig from his water bottle, spat, and blew the alarm call, then set another arrow to his bowstring._

_FLASH (a few seconds into the future)_

_Faleron had refused to take command, telling Kel she's the one with the cool head. "Neal and Prosper, magic again. Hold it awhile!" she whispers from in front of them._

_Green streamers rolled from his hands, growing wider, forming scarves that moved in the air. Prosper released another white blaze; how he kept the pages from being blinded like the raiders, Neal hadn't a clue. He and Prosper had obscured the area around them for about sixty feet. He can see that the squinting raiders had shifted to form a half-circle around them at about seventy feet. For all the enemy knew, the pages could be anywhere behind the curtain of moving light._

"_Kel, we're at the cliff!" Owen hissed at her._

_Now they had a wall at their backs, but it wasn't much. Twenty-three raiders are still able to fight. He wished that there was another Gifted page with them, one with war magic; but they had to make do with what they had. They all knew that._

_Thankfully, the raiders had no leader to coordinate their attacks and make them even more dangerous. They also had no mages._

"_Archers, get ready," Kel said calmly. Now she and Seaver were at the cliff as well. She is silent for a few seconds, obviously planning what their next course of action will be. "Faleron," she whispers, then points to a nearby goat-trail. Neal and the other boys follow the trail with their eyes to see the hollow, about forty-five feet up. His thoughts went immediately to Kel's terror of heights. But if she was willing to make the climb, he wouldn't argue. Faleron nodded. "Just to that cave. You first, then Neal. Neal, as soon as you're there, switch to archery. You're going to need your gift." He opened his mouth to argue, but Kel looked at Merric. "You next, then Seaver, Prosper, then Owen. Archers, cover us. Prosper, ease off the continuous light. When a lot of them move in, give 'em a light-burst, but only then." She glanced at the enemy through the veils of light. His eyes follow to see three of them venture forward. "Now go! I'll bring up the rear!"_

_Owen coolly shot one of the three horsemen, the arrow lodging in his mount's shoulder. The pain-stricken animal reared, trying to shake off its rider. As the man fought for control, colliding with his neighbors, the pages raced for the trail and began to climb._

_FLASH (at the cave)_

_Neal slipped into the shallow cave. Then Merric hobbled in, an arrow in his left shoulder. Neal immediately pulled him to the back of the cave and gently pushed him to the ground. He immediately stemmed the blood with his magic and kept off as much pain as he can. Gods know he'd cursed himself many times for leaving the university, and this was another such time._

"_What happened?" he heard Kel ask minutes later._

"_They got him when he shot at the ones that were coming after you," Faleron replied._

_He looked up. "It's missed anything vital - Kel, you're hurt!" he says, only to be shocked at a wound on her thigh._

"_Stay with Merric," she snapped. "It's just a graze." She went to the front of the cave as he turned his attention back to Merric. A few seconds later, she spoke again, near the cave entrance. "Let up for a bit, Prosper. Eat something. And thanks." Minutes passed in silence. "How many arrows have we got?" she demanded. The archers counted. The answer wasn't bad, but wasn't good either. "From now on, pick your shots," she tells them. Think twice before you do shoot. Faleron, did you blow the horn while I was out there?"_

"_Of course. I take it you were thinking of other things."_

"_I believe I was. Crown?" she said. The queen sparrow flew to Kel's hand. "Crown, it may be they can't hear the horn, back at camp," Kel explained to her. "Will you fetch help?"_

_Crown peeped, then she, another female, and two males flew off._

"_Next time maybe we should bring paper and ink," suggested Owen. "They could carry messages."_

_He heard someone walk over and crouch beside him and Merric. "All this noise you're making, I can't think," she teased their injured friend gently._

_Merric smiled tightly at her. Though normally pale-skinned, he was now so white that his freckles looked like paint on wax. Sweat rolled down his face. "We're in enough of a spot without me yelling," he said tightly. "Besides, it's not so bad. Neal stopped most of the ouch."_

"_Can you do more than stop the ouch?" she whispered to him._

_He shook his head, ashamed. "I don't have the training," he replied._

"_But you can heal," she began._

"_Within limits. I was to start learning about arrow, knife, and sword wounds this year, if I'd stayed."_

_Kel shook her head. "You should get proper training!" she said indignantly._

"_When?" he asked, making a face. "Most people either go for knight or for healer, not both." He knows she hadn't meant to be mean, but it still hurt._

_She began to argue, but closed her mouth. "Sorry, Neal," she said ruefully._

"_That's all right." He gave her a crooked smile. "Gods know I keep thinking I was crack-brained to leave the university."_

"_But if you hadn't, I'd be a lot worse off now," Merric reminded him. "I like you where you are, thanks."_

_Kel gripped his shoulder in another, silent apology, then went back to the entrance._

_FLASH_

_Neal could hear Owen from his own room, though the boy was in Kel's. "Mithros's spear, Kel! When did you turn into a real girl?"_

_Neal rolls his eyes and heads down the hall to say hello, and smack Owen on the head for being so loud. Someone says something to Owen._

"_But not a girl-girl, with a chest and all!"_

_Neal feels his cheeks turn pink. Of all the conversations he would like to avoid with Kel, her chest _would_ be at the top of the list._

_Kel must have said something, because Owen replies. "I never realized. It's not like you've got melons or anything, they're just noticeable."_

_Neal leans against the doorframe of Kel's room to watch this unfold._

"_Master Owen!" Lalasa cried. "Think shame to yourself for saying such things!"_

_Owen talks to two younger boys, "That's Lalasa, Kel's maid. She sews, and she knows all kinds of ways to hurt you." To Kel and Lalasa, he added, "I wasn't trying to be _rude."

"_You can be rude without trying," Neal drawls. "The Stump would penalize you for talking so loud and free." He looks at Kel, his cheeks still hot. "It's your own fault for encouraging him when he was a first-year, you know. Now he thinks he's a human being."_

_Owen threw himself at Neal. The tussled briefly before finding seats. Kel is bright red with humiliation, and can barely look at him. Just as well, she would have caught him staring at her figure. Somehow, Lalasa had talked Kel into wearing lighter shirts than her palace garb The one she's wearing now is still cotton, but thinner and draped over her like silk, revealing her curves._

_FLASH_

_Four weeks into his third year as a page, the training masters started changing things around for the third- and fourth-years. Neal _hated_ when they changed things._

_As the walked to archer practice that day, Owen complained, "Seniors get to do all the jolly things."_

_Neal glared at the second-year with all the royal disdain of a vexed lion. He was limping from a staff blow to the knee. "You are a bloody-minded savage," he informs the younger boy sternly. "I hope you are kidnapped by centaurs."_

_Archery was fine, in Neal's opinion. But just as they collected their bows and quivers, the archery mastered called, "The following will come with me." He walked over to the right side of the yard, where the target by the fence had been moved fifty yards beyond those the pages normally shot at. The group included Neal, Kel, Quinden, Merric, Faleron, Yancen, Balduin, and Dermid._

"_You people ought to be better," the archery master informed them when they were gathered. "My lord has said it, and I agree. You'll improve by midwinter or I'll know why. Once you start hitting the more distant target, I'll let you play with these."_

_The argument that had been on Neal's lips dies when he sees the arrows the archery master held. Until now, they shot as if they hunted deer or game birds. These new arrows were armor-piercing broadheads and needleheads, barbed heads, even the ones that made an eerie, whistling sound as they flew. Some were made to pierce a Stormwing's metal feathers or a Coldfang's thick hide._

"_Each has a different weight, and will fly different. You'll learn to adjust for each arrow," the archery master told them "And we'll do a bit with fire arrows. They fly different, too. In the normal way of things you'd leave this kind of work to archers under your command, but times are hardly normal, are they? All these immortals, three dangerous neighbors on edge - and who might they be?" he demanded, gazing sharply at Quinden._

_FLASH_

"_My lord, I'd like permission to take this to the smithy," Kel said, hefting the lance. "It's too light."_

_Wyldon blinked at her. "What?"_

"_Surely my lord knew that Page Keladry has lead weights in all of her practice weapons," Neal commented, standing nearby. He knew he looked the spirit of mischief._

"_Queenscove, do not try me," Wyldon said, clear warning in his voice. His eyes were on Kel as he stated, "You use weighted practice weapons."_

_Kel made no reply._

"_How long have you done this?"_

_Neal smirks. How could he or Kel forget? The day the first-years began to train with the lance, Joren had made sure that Kel got a lance three times heavier than the normal ones. "Since the first week on lance, my lord," she replied evenly._

"_All of your weapons, not the lance alone?" he inquired. Neal rolls his eyes. Apparently, the training master wants to hear it from Kel._

"_It was too strange after a while, going from a weighted lance to a lighter staff and practice sword and ax," she explained. "It works better if they're weighted too._

_Wyldon hooked his fingers in his belt, frowning. There was no reading his face, as usual. At last he sighed. "Tend your mount first. Do not be late for lunch," he ordered._

_She thanked him and bowed, but he had already turned on Neal. "Clearly you have too much time on your hands," he told him. "You may take the next five runs at the quintain, beginning now._

"_Yes, your lordship, immediately, your lordship," he replies with a mocking grin as he swings into saddle._

_FLASH_

"_What was that about?" he demanded._

_Kel turned to look at her friends. "He says he changed."_

"_I suppose he could have changed," he said dryly. "I myself have noticed my growing resemblance to a daffodil."_

_Kel eyed him. "You do look yellow around the edges," she told him, her face serious. "I hadn't wanted to bring it up."_

"_We daffodils like to have things brought up," he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "It reminds us of spring."_

"_Does dung remind you of spring, too, Princess Flower?" Cleon demanded irritably. 'So jealous,' Neal thought to himself. "You needn't man-handle our Kel like that."_

_Kel peeled his arm away. "Thanks, but no thanks," she told him. "I don't want to crush your petals."_

"_Crush mine all you like, fair lady," Cleon told her, putting an arm around her shoulders in Neal's stead. Neal glares at him._

_Owen wriggled between Neal and Kel and wrapped an arm around Kel's waist. "Me too," he said, grinning up at her._

_Kel worked herself free, chuckling._

"_Say, Neal, Uline of Hannlof looks _beautiful,"_ Owen said as they got into line to be served._

"_She is not for me," he said gravely. Everyone turned to look at him. "She's betrothed to Kieroan haMinch—they're announcing this week. She'll brighten their gloomy northern castles like the moon. Now the _queen—_she was more than beautiful tonight Did you see her, in that white gown embroidered in scarlet? The jewels in her hair, like stars in the midnight sky? No other country has a queen to compare .and she has the deadly core of a Sirajit sword, beauty and death in one splendid woman." He let his eyes go misty. "Murdon Fielding, the Sage of Cria, wrote, 'Squire, give thy queen they purest love. Let her be the living emblem of the power of the Goddess, her beauteous countenance will be thy guide, her favor and thanks your payment. Let her—'"_

_Before he could go further, his friends attacked him with the long, thin loaves of bread served with soup, battering him until the bread fell to pieces. He brushed the crumbs off his clothes and fixed them with his loftiest glare, laughing heartily on the inside. 'Soulless, heartless pages that you are," he said. "I ignore you." He cut ahead of them in line so he could be served first._

* * *

Sarah: that's it for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please review!


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